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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25456060">The Dawn of Heroes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgeOfHemitheos/pseuds/AgeOfHemitheos'>AgeOfHemitheos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Hemitheopolis Chronicles [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Percy Jackson and the Olympians &amp; Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Family, Fantasy, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Historical, Loss, Love, Multi, Original Character(s), Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:41:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>110,523</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25456060</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgeOfHemitheos/pseuds/AgeOfHemitheos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Perlia. Multi-POV. Ancient Greece AU.</p><p> An ancient darkness. A land divided. All will be lost if the age of heroes does not come again. </p><p>"I don't know what I'm doing," said Percy. "Neither do I," replied Thalia. "But I know this. No price can be put to life. The beautiful yet disastrous complexity of it."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thalia Grace/Percy Jackson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Hemitheopolis Chronicles [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843798</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Storm & The Sword</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A/N: This is a Multi-POV AU following Percy, Thalia, Annabeth and a handful of OCs set in Ancient Greece. The story is completely written with 47 chapters and 160k words.(Yes completely. No Hiatuses or Discontinuations to be found here.) I'll be looking to upload twice a week. This is the first book in a planned trilogy. Enjoy and please leave a review if possible.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: This is a Multi-POV AU following Percy, Thalia, Annabeth and a handful of OCs set in Ancient Greece. The story is completely written with 47 chapters and 160k words.(Yes completely. No Discontinuations to be found here.) I'll be looking to upload once a week whenever possible. It takes me quite some time to turn the first draft into the second. Anyways, this is the first book in a planned trilogy. Hope you're as excited for this journey as I am.</p><p>For all the Percabeth lovers out there (Me being one of them. Seriously, not a day goes by where I don't think about how perfect they are) don't be turned off by the Perlia. Percy and Annabeth will be very close friends and Annabeth is still very prevalent in the story.</p><p>I wrote Perlia cause I love their dynamic. Seriously there is not enough Perlia and too many discontinued Perlia fics. And I also wanted to avoid re-threading old ground. Especially one that's already perfect.</p><p>Enjoy and please leave a review if possible.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Percy</p><p>Famine spread through the village of Kastelli like wildfire. And this fire…</p><p>There was no dampening it. The children in the village were falling sick—men and women too. Kastelli, being on the edge of Crete, was a fishing village and trading port. Nearly all the food consumed by the villagers came from the sea.</p><p>The fate of the village now rested on the valiant men and women who had braved the vicious storm that ravaged their island. Yet, they had not returned. It had been far too long. Even by the village elders' estimates, pessimistic as they always were, the fishermen should have been back, at the latest, yesterday.</p><p>Percy had never felt so helpless. And it wasn't because he was barricaded in the council hall with the aforementioned pessimistic village elders. Or the fact that the dimly-lit and musty chamber was as gloomy as any he had ever step foot in. No—it was because he hated this gut-wrenching feeling of being unable to help. To sit here and let the worry gnaw away at his heart.</p><p>The weight on his chest only got worse as he watched his mother work. She was drifting through the hall in her simple blue dress, handing out blankets and supplies to the sick, her resplendent smile shining life into that dank chamber. Instead of helping, he had been busy sulking in the corner, drowning himself in self-pity. He had to get a grip of himself.</p><p>He pushed himself to his feet and joined her side. Not the easiest of tasks seeing that she was swarmed by a group of children that were clamoring after her, pulling lightly at her dress and calling her name repeatedly. She was beloved by all in the village, none more than the children. It was a testament to her compassion that Percy had never heard a single person raise his or her voice against his mother. Her popularity among children though…</p><p>That was something else altogether. Being the village seamstress and also one of the most popular bakers this side of Greece, their house was always swarmed by children looking for pastries or new dresses.</p><p>Before Percy could ask her what it is he could do to help, one of the little ones twirled giddily past him and nearly tripped over his feet had he not caught her by the arm. He recognized the girl and her vibrant sage-green eyes.</p><p>Emily was her name. One of his mother's most loyal customers. He gave her the best smile he could muster but her attention, fleeting as children's were, was fixated elsewhere. He traced her gaze to the rotting wooden doors that separated them from the outside world.</p><p><em>Oh gods</em>.</p><p>He knew her parents. They were both fishermen. And they had both chosen to embark on the journey through the storm. Perhaps that made them selfish. Or perhaps noble, for they felt, in their hearts, that they could not live with themselves if they did not do everything in their power to bring the much needed supplies for their daughter.</p><p>Percy knew he believed in the latter as the girl squeezed his arm and turned to him, eyes ringed with red. "Will they come back?"</p><p>He did not know what to say. Words meant nothing in these kinds of situations.</p><p>He stole a glance at those battered doors, creaking as wave after wave of wind and rain slammed into them. He knew what he had to do.</p><p>He knelt down to the girl's height and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "I'll bring them back."</p><p>Emily's eyes lit up at his words. "You will?"</p><p>Percy nodded, the hope in her voice only fueling his conviction as he rose to his feet.</p><p>His mother slid to him gracefully, eyes lined with worry. "It's too dangerous. You won't make it fifty yards." She whispered the sentence wearily, afraid that Emily might hear her.</p><p>The girl, perceptive as she was, either read his mother's lips or expression because that glimmer of hope he had witnessed was already waning.</p><p>"I have to," Percy squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I can't sit by while our people starve. I promise I'll be fine. I'll take every precaution there is. And besides, the storm has calmed in the last few days"</p><p><em>A lie</em>. One for the benefit of the young girl whose entire world was on the brink of collapse. His mother understood that, at least, and did not argue further.</p><p>She rested her palm against his cheek, gently caressing it with her thumb. He leaned into the touch—into the bastion of comfort his mother was.</p><p>"Sometimes I forget that you are your father's son. If only he could see you now. He would have been so proud," a tear trickled down her cheek.</p><p>Percy had always wondered why his father left his mother. Everything Percy learnt about him pointed to a caring and generous man. And if he did love her as much as she loved him, why in god's name had he abandoned her?</p><p>Percy was lulled from his thoughts as his mother planted a kiss on his forehead. "Go now and <em>please</em> come back to me."</p><p>Percy gave her a brief hug, afraid that if he held on to her any longer, he would lose all semblance of courage he had gathered.</p><p>He turned back to Emily and in an exaggerated motion of a whisper, eyes flicking between her and his mother, he said to her, "Promise to take care of my mother?"</p><p>The girl broke out in a wide grin, nodding enthusiastically and bouncing on her feet. "I promise." Her grin turned sly, "Then she will make me cookies."</p><p>Percy huffed a laugh, sharing a conspirator's smile with Emily. "Then she'll make us both cookies."</p><p>Percy took one last sweeping glance of the old chamber, at all the people he would be letting down if he failed, and took a deep breath, steeling himself for the storm that awaited him on the other side of this door.</p><hr/><p>Thalia</p><p>Thalia awoke to a blinding beam of light. She shielded her face instinctively with raised arms. Even that slight movement sending a flare of pain coursing through her body, reminding her of its soreness. One hand still shielding her from the sun's glare, she reached out with the other to draw her curtains.</p><p><em>One last day of training, </em>she reminded herself as she slid to the edge of her bed. She didn't know how or what to feel. She was ecstatic to finally be recognized as a fully-fledged Spartan warrior. Yet, it was not in her nature to be restricted or constricted and that was exactly what her fate would entail if she excelled in tomorrow's trials.</p><p>Honestly, the thought of joining the Spartan army and being conscripted for most of her life at such a young age terrified her. She would never have the chance to explore her interests, to make friends. Hell, she wouldn't even get a chance to live—not truly. For to be a Spartan warrior was not to live, but to die. To die for what you believed in or at least the people you believed in.</p><p>It was something Thalia had always struggled to come to grips with. Not because she was afraid to die—<em>she was</em>. But because, that was something she was running low on. People that she believed in, that is.</p><p><em>Get your act together</em> she scolded herself. She had trained nine years for this day. As per spartan custom, children were enrolled into the "Agoge" at the young age of seven. It was a rigorous training program mandated for all Spartans that focused on the honing of the mental and physical capabilities of the human body. When Sparta was first formed only male citizens were enrolled. But as time passed, the Kings of Sparta decided that female citizens were also to be enrolled to bolster their ranks.</p><p>She clenched her jaw as she planted her weight on her feet, the pain reminding her of all the cuts and bruises she had sustained over her last few days of training. Her <em>Paidonomos</em>, Cyril, who was in charge of every aspect of her Agoge had been pushing her harder than ever.</p><p>She had wanted to confront him, but she knew what he was doing was necessary and even if it wasn't, she could never stay angry at him. After all, he was the one that had raised her even before her Agoge had started. As far as Thalia could remember, she had always been an orphan and had always been Cyril's ward.</p><p>He had been tough on her as she had grown older, but it had molded her into who she was today. Thalia reminisced on all the memories of joy and love she had growing up at Cyril's house, fractured though they were. It dawned on her then, that she had almost forgotten what it was like to be a child—to have that kind of carefree joy and wonder.</p><p>Shaking away those thoughts, Thalia slipped into her training gear, a set of leather armour, and proceeded to buckle her sword belt around her waist. She approached the wall where her weapons were hung on brackets, grabbed her xiphos and nimbly slid it into its sheath before slinging her quiver and bow across her back. She took a deep breath. <em>You have never faltered, now is not the time to start.</em></p><p>Taking in another deep breath, she pushed open her doors to once again be greeted by the morning sun, and with it, the rolling green fields that had been both her sanctuary and prison. The Spartan Training Camp, lifeblood of the great city.</p><p>She made her way through it, through the archery range, past the hand-to-hand combat arenas and across the gravel racetracks. She knew where Cyril would be, where he always was, nestled in and amongst the other trainers and trainees who were in the final year of their Agoge. There were so many of them and yet Thalia could not even name a couple. That was the thing she hated the most about her training—the solitude. Sparta believed it best that the young focus wholly on their training and only forge the bonds of life once assigned to their respective units.</p><p>When she arrived, Cyril was already in his fighting stance, feet planted firmly into the soft earth, wielding a shield and spear. He beckoned her forward with a flick of his wrist. She unsheathed her xiphos and began to jog towards him, a small smile forming on her lips.</p><p>
  <em>This was what she was born for.</em>
</p><p>As she got closer, she broke into a sprint and launched herself at him, bringing down her xiphos in a downward slash. He raised his shield and parried her blow with ease, the blow reverberating through her sword arm.</p><p>"You will not be needing your bow today, throw it aside." ordered Cyril, simply.</p><p>Thalia hesitated and raised her eyebrows in confusion "Why?"</p><p>"Do as I say."</p><p>Thalia followed his instructions. Not without her fair share of curses and complaints.</p><p>"Today, we will be focusing on close combat since you have perfected the art of archery" He raised his shield and spear and placed his left foot forward.</p><p>Thalia, realising that Cyril had actually complimented her, felt foolish for causing a scene and resisting his instructions but the sentiment did not last.</p><p>"You have never been the greatest at melee combat and I do not expect you to become a competent melee combatant by the end of the day, but the least we can do is try and improve your shoddy swordsmanship." Cyril smiled wryly.</p><p>She knew exactly what he was doing, so did he. Yet it did not stop the anger that flared in her chest.</p><p>Thalia curled her lip and stared him down. "Today is the day I will prove you wrong."</p><p>"I'll tell you what, if you land ten blows before the end of today's exercise," challenged Cyril, a glint in his eyes. "I'll give you the evening off."</p><p>Thalia feinted a stab and went for a diagonal slash but Spartan shields were huge and not easy to get by. She was now face-to-face with Cyril, only two inches separating them, her xiphos pressed to his shield.</p><p>"Challenge accepted, but by 'evening off' you mean an evening locked up in this training camp with nothing to do?" replied Thalia, voice dripping with sarcasm.</p><p>He sighed "You are insufferable, you know. Fine… I will allow you to leave camp but you <em>must</em> promise to stay within the confines of the city."</p><p>"Deal," Thalia pushed off his shield and jumped back to gain distance. "Ten blows, was it? Let's make it fifteen." Thalia broke into a grin, the thought of exploring the streets and marketplace of Sparta spurring her on.</p><p>She knew agility was her largest advantage in this exercise. Cyril had taught her time and time again on how to read her opponents and analyse the situation. When Cyril thrusted his spear forward, she rolled beneath it and into a kneeling position behind him, before twisting her waist to strike him.</p><p>"One down, fourteen to go" Thalia rose to her feet and dusted herself off.</p><p>"Well played," Cyril nodded encouragingly. "Don't get too excited, that is what you would call beginner's luck.</p><p>"If you say so old man".</p><hr/><p>Percy</p><p>Percy's fingers trembled as he set sail and it was not due to the freezing cold. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the village centre. What was once a gathering point bristling with life, was now a barren, soulless stretch of land.</p><p>Percy knew that the hardest part of his journey was its beginning. Closer to the shore, there were hundreds of sharp rocks embedded in the seabed that were large enough that they'd emerge from the water and create a maze for sailors.</p><p>He had sailed this path a hundred times but never in such conditions. A layer of mist had settled, blanketing the surface of the sea and obscuring his vision. He shook away his doubts and steered his way through the maze carefully.</p><p>While he worked, Percy thought about all the whispers that have been coming from the mainland. Being a trading port, Kastelli had frequent visitors from mainland Greece looking to trade their various goods in exchange for fish and other wares. At first, he had dismissed the information as folly. The majority of traders were known to be unreliable. It came with the trade. Sometimes, a tragic tale, true or untrue, could get them lower prices than even they had anticipated.</p><p>However, the number of traders had been dwindling over the past three months, and those who came always bore the same news. According to them, dark days were ahead. There had been a drastic increase in the frequency of monster attacks. Villages all over the country were being swarmed and attacked by hordes of monsters.</p><p>Percy was suddenly very grateful that his mother was safe back at Kastelli. Crete had always been safer than the mainland. He couldn't recall the last time there was a monster sighting at Kastelli's whereabouts other than the occasional wild claim that a sea monster was roaming the shores. A byproduct of the strange formation of sea stacks that lined the coast.</p><p>He was ripped from his thoughts by a loud groan.</p><p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p><p>He had scraped the underside off his boat against one of the aforementioned sea stacks. He had to focus. It had been foolish of him to drift with his thoughts while his boat drifted him to an untimely death.</p><p>After a few more close calls, he started to regain confidence in his abilities and it was good that he did as he was approaching the Great Fangs of Crete. A twin pair of massive rocks that were 10 yards wide and 15 yards tall each. Famed due to its unique structure that made it look like you were sailing through the fangs of a giant sea serpent.</p><p>Sailors would usually sail around the rocks, giving it a wide berth either due to superstition or the narrowness of the pass.</p><p>Percy, though, had no such option, finding himself hurtling at full speed towards one of the fangs that had only just come into view. He closed his eyes and braced for imminent impact. Instead, he felt the boat lurch violently to the right, throwing him off it.</p><p>Disoriented from the sudden movement and strong currents, Percy started to sink. It was only when he scrapped his back on a rough surface, did he regain his senses. He struggled and twisted himself to reach out for something he could grab on—anything at all—so that he could orientate himself.</p><p>Finally, his hands scraped against something solid—the base of one of the fangs. Still holding his breath, he kicked off the rock, using the momentum to carry him to the surface. Thank the gods he was not yet too far out to sea.</p><p>As he broke through the surface, it was horror that rushed through him. A sight that had been concealed from him by that stupid mist.</p><p><em>Bodies</em>.</p><p>Everywhere he looked…</p><p>Broken and torn. Matted in blood.</p><p>His throat closed up as he struggled for breath. It was as if breathing now was more difficult than it had been under the sea. He knew these people. All of them. The men and women who had left only days ago. Emily's parents were right there, their lifeless eyes staring into his.</p><p>So much for being safer than the mainland. Death had come to Crete. He had to get back and warn the others.</p><hr/><p>Edited 29th April 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Spear & The Amphora</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thank you for the amazing response on the first chapter. You guys are the best. Chapter 2 follows the other main characters of my fic. Hope you like them.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Annabeth</p><p>Annabeth stirred awake only to find herself in an uncomfortable yet familiar situation; her head slumped forward on the table, resting upon an open book. She had once again fallen asleep while reading. She arced her back and curled her toes as she stretched, feeling a dull ache in her neck and lower back.</p><p>She'd really have to stop doing this to herself.</p><p>She rubbed her heavy eyelids, clarity of vision slowly returning. Her room was what could only be described as an organized mess. Stacks and stacks of books lined every wall, every corner, every nook and cranny, leaving barely enough space to move around. Even her bed was packed with books and scrolls. Yet, the simple fact was this, she knew where everything was, every tome sorted by category.</p><p>Scattered around her desk, were a bunch of leather-bound tomes titled <em>'The Hemitheopolis Chronicles'</em>. Annabeth had with her volumes one through five. Each volume covered the events of a century or so, some thicker than others, and the thinnest, volume five, read till present day.</p><p>She had been nearing the end of it when she had drifted off to sleep, leaving her with only a vague memory of beginning the final chapter. She flipped back to the first page of the final chapter, curious of what it covered and caught a glimpse of the title '<em>The Battle of Corinth'</em>.</p><p>Every soul in Hemitheopolis knew this tale, the famed standoff between the Aegean Drakon and the demigods of Hemitheopolis that occurred on the Corinthian Gulf. It was the biggest loss of life in the recorded history of Hemitheopolis, leaving only a handful of survivors.</p><p>Annabeth was drawn out of her thoughts by a piercing ray of light, wincing as her eyes adjusted to it.</p><p><em>Sunrise</em>—she was going to be late for breakfast and more importantly, training. Strange that Damian and Chloe had not come looking for her. Perhaps they were waiting at their usual rendezvous point.</p><p>Quickly tidying herself up and gathering her curls into a loose ponytail, Annabeth slipped out of her room and straight into the temple chamber. She approached the altar that rested before the ten-foot tall statue of her mother and knelt on the cold marble tiles, offering up a silent prayer as she always did.</p><p>As she gathered herself, Annabeth took a sweeping glance of the horizon. She'd never get tired of the view, the greatest library known to man on one side and on the other, a stunning view of the ocean. What more could she ask for?</p><p>She took one step out of the temple and broke into jog. She was used to racing against time. One did not attain all this knowledge without doing so. Besides, this way, she'd at least get in some morning exercise to counter all the hours she'd been spending in the library. Not wanting the stench to ruin her morning, she veered right and hugged the shoreline, avoiding the stables as the Temple of Poseidon came into view. She did pity the creatures, but in these times, they could not afford the spare numbers to maintain its pristine nature. At least they were being fed and watered.</p><p>Annabeth crossed the river atop a cobbled bridge and through the rolling fields, arriving at the training grounds. There were a handful of Hemitheopolians already training, younger ones mostly, eager to prove themselves and be send out on a task. She could not help but smile at the sight—at the past and the future. It felt like only yesterday when she had been exactly like them.</p><p>She turned towards the only two structures that were found on the Training Grounds. The infirmary, and standing next to it, the Temple of Apollo. Damian and Chloe were still nowhere to be seen.</p><p>Before stepping foot into the temple, she whispered a prayer to the Sun God as a show of respect. She knocked on the doors to Damian's room and called out his name but still nothing.</p><p>If Damian wasn't here, it would mean he was with Chloe, which would also mean she had a couple of theories of where they could be. A slight smirk formed on her lips at the thought. She continued her jog, redirecting herself to the Blessed Gardens, her stomach letting out a low growl as she streamed past the Dining Hall, the delicious smells wafting towards her.</p><p>The fact that she was late must have prompted the lovebirds into taking a morning stroll through the gardens. She was right on one count; they <em>were</em> in the blessed gardens but not on a stroll.</p><p>No—they were sound asleep on the soft loam, hidden within a cradle of bushes, Chloe's head resting on Damian's chest, her cinnamon-brown hair sprawled across his torso. Beneath them lay a rug lined with an assortment of items; burnt out candles, flowers, a wine jug.</p><p>It seemed her friends had a romantic outing and had fallen asleep midway through it.</p><p>She nudged Chloe with her boot trying not to startle both of them awake. Chloe's eyes fluttered open and realizing the position she was in, flushed red.</p><p>"This is not what it looks like…" she quickly whirled herself to her feet and straightened out her clothes. "Oh, it's only you, Annabeth. You know… maybe next time use your voice so that I know it's you."</p><p>"There's gonna be a next time, is there?" Annabeth wriggled her eyebrows playfully.</p><p>Chloe let out a shy laugh. Nothing more than a puff of breath, eyeing Annabeth wearily.</p><p>"I'm glad it was you who found us," Chloe placed a hand on Annabeth's shoulder, "That is one awkward situation I would not like to be part of."</p><p>"Imagine if it had been Dorian," offered Annabeth with a smirk, "Or worse…Hector."</p><p>Chloe blanched at the thought, horror flushing through her features. "I'd never be able to sit through another council meeting."</p><p>"Anyways, I was keeping quiet because the two of looked so peaceful together and I'd feel terrible ruining the moment," smirked Annabeth.</p><p>"What time is it anyway? Even I'm starving which means knowing Damian's appetite, he'll not be in a good mood when he wakes up."</p><p>"Shall I do the honors?" Annabeth crouched beside him.</p><p>"You may, my lady" Chloe curtsied with a playful smile.</p><p>Annabeth shouted in his ear.</p><p>"What…" he jolted awake a wild look in his eyes. He took a couple moments to re-orientate himself. Realising what had happened, he narrowed his eyes at her before joining in her laughter. "Dammit, Annabeth."</p><p>"Did you enjoy your sleep?" she teased with a wink.</p><p>"What do you mean?" he asked, only then noticing that Chloe was behind her.</p><p>They made momentary and tentative eye-contact before glancing away quickly, their ears reddening. Damian patted his pockets, a quick subtle movement, as though he had lost something precious to him or perhaps, that 'something' was so precious, he had to confirm its whereabouts.</p><p>He rose to his feet, "It's time for breakfast isn't it? I'm ravenous," he rubbed his stomach in discomfort.</p><p>The low ringing of the council bell reverberated through the air.</p><p>"Looks like we are not having breakfast after all," Chloe shot Damian a sympathetic smile. "We need to make our way to Council Chamber now or we'll be the last ones there"</p><hr/><p>They arrived at the Agora, which was packed as usual, but unusually quiet. A certain unspoken tension permeating the streets. Aeropagus meetings were rarely held so close to dawn, a fact which must have been observed by the denizens of Hemitheopolis as they anxiously waited—forming a semicircle around the entrance to the council chamber. Damian stood on his tiptoes to get a better view.</p><p>"Lucky for us, the meeting has yet to begin. The doors are still wide open. Both of you stick to me, we're squeezing through"</p><p>Together, they managed to push through the crowd and slip into the chamber just as the guards pulled the doors close. The other members of the Aeropagus turned their attention on the three of them. Some exchanged anxious glances while others met them with a steely gaze. The council was stood around the war table, a stone tablet with the landscape of Greece carved into it. At the head of the table, stood the Polemarch and Archon Proper.</p><p>Something was wrong.</p><p>The matter at hand must have been dire for the session to start around the war table instead of the U-shaped table that looped around it.</p><p>"Gather around quickly," Hector, the archon proper beckoned. "We have much to discuss. As you all know, there has been a spike in monster activity over the last few weeks. I had sent word to the city-states to keep their guards up and assist in the protection of their outlying villages. As of today, only Thebes and Sparta have written back to us."</p><p>Hector reached for his side pouch and pulled out two scrolls, each sealed with the mark of their respective cities. First, he unrolled the scroll with the seal of Sparta, a shield inscribed with the Greek letter lambda and two spears crossed behind it, and read it aloud.</p><p>
  <em>Greetings Archon Proper,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I fear what is to follow. What you are calling a 'recent development' has been haunting us for the last three months. A fierce never-ending battle. Men against nature, warrior against beast. The odds are not in our favor. Unlike the other city-states of Greece, we are isolated and our geography is not favorable.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We are a prideful people but our pride is crumbling. I'm sure you have heard the famed Spartan saying 'men over mortar'. We always thought a wall a frivolous waste of resources, overconfident of our battle prowess and the might of our army. However, a wall was needed, so a wall we created. The largest phalanx the continent has ever seen was deployed to surround the city. As of me writing this letter, what was once an eight men deep phalanx is now only six. We do not know how long we will last. Our army is fatigued and we are being bombarded from all directions. Creatures that dwell in the mountains attack our east while those that dwell in the coastal areas attack our west.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Send us reinforcements and we will forever be in your debt. The greatest young warriors of Greece are in Sparta, training for their moment in this world. For their sakes, do not let Sparta fall. The future of Greece is in our hands.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Agesilaus</em>
</p><p>
  <em>King of Sparta</em>
</p><p>Next Hector unrolled the scroll with the seal of Thebes, an amphora surrounded by runes.</p><p>
  <em>Fellow Archon,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We too have noticed the increase in monster attacks. What makes matters grave is that the attacks are not only more frequent but larger in scale. It almost seems organised in a way. A ridiculous notion, I know, but reports are saying otherwise. My rangers have noticed packs of creatures moving towards the west. Even stranger, is the fact that they seem to be only moving at night, under the cover of darkness. Of course, you could argue that they were hallucinating, after all, it easy to see things that are not there when afraid, especially in these dark times.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>However, I would not write to you if unsure. I trust the men and women who gave these reports—good soldiers who would die for Thebes and her people. We cannot explain what we are witnessing as we have never seen its ilk before. We urge you to look into the matter, after all, you are the experts. Should you need our assistance you only need drop by our gates. Our men and supplies are at your service.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Larissa</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Archon Proper</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thebes</em>
</p><p>"We are gathered here today to discuss the plan moving forward and to address these letters," Hector gestured to the landmass just south of Thebes. "The reports from Thebes mention this area in between the mountains to be a nest of monster activity. I think we can all agree that something larger is at play here. Forces that we cannot hope to comprehend unless we investigate further."</p><p>Dorian cleared his throat, "As Polemarch I will lead this mission; it is best we get to the root of the issue before it is too late."</p><p>"How many men will you need" asked Hector</p><p>"Without proper intel, it is hard to say." Dorian scratched his chin in thought. "If we take to little, we may suffer defeat, but if send too many, we will be spreading ourselves too thin."</p><p>"I suggest we send a small party to scout the area first" Annabeth moved a couple of tokens that represented Hemitheopolis's troops to the area south of Thebes.</p><p>"Once we have gotten intel, we can travel north to Thebes and accept their offer. Then we will lead a squadron of Theban soldiers to clear out the mountain pass—leaving us with enough men to cover Hemitheopolis as well as its nearby villages."</p><p>As Annabeth explained her plan, she walked around the table and moved more tokens into position.</p><p>"This however does not address the issue of Sparta." Damian added looking at Chloe and Annabeth for support.</p><p>"If only we had the numbers, alas, we have barely rebuilt our forces to what they used to be." Hector replied grimly.</p><p>"We have to help them," pressed Chloe. "On our honor as demigods and our honor as Greeks. We were born in the image of the gods; it is only right we answer the prayers of men."</p><p>Annabeth watched as Damian reached over to squeeze Chloe's hand affectionately, guilt rushing through her. They would not like what she had to say next. However, she was not one to let emotion cloud her judgement.</p><p>"Hector is right. It has been sixteen years and still we have not yet fully recovered from the Battle of Corinth. Besides, there are city-states such as Megara and Corinth who do not have the military power to protect as well as evacuate their villages.' Annabeth traced a path between Hemitheopolis and the two city-states with her finger. "It would be in our best interest to strengthen and secure our borders before pushing out to Sparta."</p><p>Her friends looked at her in disbelief. She knew they would understand and forgive her eventually but still…she felt their disappointment like a knife in the chest. She mouthed "I'm sorry" with a heavy heart.</p><p>"I agree with Annabeth on this. Perhaps once we have secured our borders, we can enlist the help of Thebes, Megara and Corinth to assist Sparta" said Dorian looking at Hector for confirmation.</p><p>"That may well work. I had not thought of enlisting the help of the other city-states. Who better than Athens to assist Sparta? We all know how treacherous and long the journey to Sparta is by land." Hector looked at the other members of the Aeropagus who nodded in agreement. "Athens is the only city-state with a navy formidable enough for the task. I will write to Lysistratus, the Archon of Athens, immediately."</p><p>Annabeth turned to see that Chloe and Damian had calmed down—resolved by the fact that there was now a plan to assist Sparta as well.</p><p>"All in favor of the arrangements?" asked Hector.</p><p>Annabeth looked around the room. Eight of the ten remaining members had raised their hands. She let out a sigh of relief. Only two of the strategoi; Andrea and Linus had voted against the plan.</p><p>"It is decided. We will continue what we have been doing to secure and evacuate the villages around us, especially those belonging to Megara and Corinth." Hector turned to Dorian. "While our polemarch will lead a scouting party to the mountain pass south of Thebes. Dorian, take two strategoi with you" Dorian looked like he was about to argue the fact but was cut off by a glare from Hector, "That is an order, old friend".</p><p>"Any volunteers?" asked Dorian.</p><p>Annabeth's hand shot up in the blink of eye. To her surprise, her friends had done the same. Knowing that Damian and Chloe would not like to be separated, Annabeth quickly lowered her hand.</p><p>"Damian and Annabeth will follow me to Thebes…" Dorian said. "Though, I would have preferred Thaddeus. His ability to manipulate shadows would have come in handy. Yet, it is not to be. We leave at sunrise tomorrow." announced Dorian, banging his fist on the table.</p><p>"Dorian, take Chloe instead," Annabeth suggested. "I have to stay to for research and also assist in any battle plans."</p><p>"Nonsense! You are not the only child of Athena in Hemitheopolis—or even the only Hemitheopolian versed in battle strategy. Unless, you are telling me you do not have faith in this plan you have concocted." Dorian challenged.</p><p>"No-"</p><p>"Besides, Chloe is needed to heal our wounded. She is after all our best healer and make no mistake, the number of wounded will not be decreasing in the near future," Dorian had a faraway look in his eyes. "I have seen it all before. Sixteen years as Polemarch and you start to wonder if you really have made a difference."</p><p>"Well, I guess we will be ending this session on a grim note." Hector eyed Dorian with a sad smile, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Forgive our Polemarch, he has been through a lot. The Council is adjourned."</p><hr/><p>Edited 29th Apr 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Warrior</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoy this chapter because this one honestly hurts me. I think my villain chapters are by far the weakest of my 47. But it's necessary to set up his motivations and the plot. Lucky for you guys, I only have three dedicated villain chapters and the next two are quite short.</p><p>I'll try to get Chapter 4 to you as soon as possible. (It's a Percy one)</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Triptolemus</p><p>"<em>Agghhh!</em>" Triptolemus swung his greatsword in a wide-sweeping arc, beheading three of the rock golems with a single blow.</p><p>He thrusted his weapon through the temple floor, cracks sprawling through its surface, and raised his arms in challenge to his mother.</p><p>"Am I a <em>joke</em> to you? Every-single-time with the golems. You know my abilities. You know how long I have trained. And most of all, you know what I've been through. Do not treat me like I'm a child."</p><p>"Soon you won't be," she whispered under her breath. Her tone heavy and weary. Like the fact was the saddest thing that had ever happened to her.</p><p>Triptolemus watched as her gaze lingered on him, taking him in as if she would truly never see him again. Her expression was one of pride, yet sorrow was what shone through. She flicked her wrist and twelve earthen soldiers sprouted around him. They were dressed in battle armour, wielding an assortment of weapons: swords, spears, shields, axes and hammers.</p><p>"Finally…" Triptolemus drawled. "A challenge.<em>"</em></p><p>He adjusted himself into his preferred fighting stance and pulled his sword from the earth, taking a moment to observe and analyse his enemies and their weaknesses before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Today was the day he'd make his father proud. Out of spite more than anything</p><p>Even with his eyes shut, he sensed imminent danger and swerved out of the way, readjusting his grip on his sword as he moved. When the next blow came, he parried it with such ferocity that the soldier was thrown back to the ground.</p><p>He utilised the space created by the fallen enemy to escape the circle of soldiers closing in on him and raised his greatsword, ready for whatever was to come next. However, these soldiers were intelligent. They were not mindless golems who would charge at him endlessly. They knew their strength was in their numbers.</p><p>Why would they rush him and lose their formation, only to be wiped out with a few swings of his mighty blade. Instead, they closed ranks and waited. He could have sworn they were smiling even though their faces were nothing more than a nightmarish blend of mud and rock. Where their eyes and mouths should have been, were only gaping holes.</p><p>"You did ask for it, no?" his mother teased playfully. "This should be easy enough for you."</p><p>"Fair enough, mother." He returned the smile.</p><p>He charged into the soldiers and let all his frustration and anger loose—years of it. There was a meaning behind each swing of his. Every blow a memory of his childhood. Shunned by the gods, a disappointment in his father's eyes, hated by everyone and everything but not knowing why.</p><p>The longer he fought, the angrier he felt. The angrier, the faster his swings. Before he knew it, he was standing amongst piles of rocks, his face and armour splattered with mud.</p><p>He turned to his mother and threw his sword in frustration. It impaled itself into her throne, inches away from her head.</p><p>"<em>Triptolemus," </em>her voice low. "Get a hold of your emotions!" She wore a stern expression as she approached him and raised his chin with her fingers so that they eyes would meet. "Is this what I taught you all these years?" He tried to avert his gaze but she held his chin firmly. "Answer me, Triptolemus."</p><p>"No mother. I am sorry," she released her grip on him and stepped back a little. "It's just that tomorrow is the day I finally come of age," He averted his gaze in shame. "I will become a fully-fledged god, but what good is all that power if I have no one to share it with. I have been despised all my life, for what, I do not know. I have asked you this a thousand times, but I am asking you one last time." He pleaded.</p><p>"I guess it is time you knew. I have kept this secret for long enough," she said with a tortured expression.</p><p>"Only time will tell if I did the right thing in hiding this from you all these years…" She gestured for him to follow her to her throne and took a seat. With another flick of her wrist, a new throne rose from the earth opposite hers. "Take a seat. There is a lot for you to hear."</p><p>"I'm ready. Enough holding back. I need to know who or what I am. I need to know what it is that is wrong with me?"</p><p>"Nothing—Nothing. You are perfect."</p><p>"Then, why?"</p><p>"You were born different from the rest of us. We <em>Protogenoi</em>, are the first race of immortals. We form the very fabric of the universe," she placed her palms face up and shapes began to form; three planes appeared stacked upon one another. "The three planes of reality, your father the Sky, myself the Earth, and your uncle Tartarus." The shapes morphed into an ocean surrounded by mountains and islands. "Your siblings, Pontus the primordial of the sea, Ourea the mountains and Nesoi the islands."</p><p>"I don't understand. You're saying that I have been shunned and hated my whole life because I'm not one with this stupid world we live in." said Triptolemus incredulously.</p><p>"Exactly that. You see, as powerful as we Primordials are, there are rules that bind us. We are the very embodiment of the natural order of things. Forced to stay the same throughout the passage of time, unable to move against each other."</p><p>"So, what am I exactly?" he asked</p><p>"You are the first of a new race of immortal warriors, a Titan, unshackled from the ties that bind us Primordials." The shapes reformed back to the three planes of reality, but this time, there was a man walking up and down the planes, engaging in battle with other figures. "This is what the other gods, especially your father, fears. That with your gift of freedom, you will challenge them."</p><p>He rose to his feet and started pacing. "How could they think so low of me? Why would I ever do such a thing?" he asked more so to himself than his mother.</p><p>"Forgive your father. I believe that in time he will grow to love you. Once you have come of age and he realises that he has nothing to fear, there should be no reason for him to avoid and despise you. He, just like the other Primordials, fear that the circle of life is repeating itself. Before us Primordials ruled the three planes, there was only Chaos, a never-ending void."</p><p>"I would never have even an inkling to overthrow the Primordials. I would never do that to you mother—you know I wouldn't."</p><p>"I know. We just have to take the time to make your father under-" she was interrupted by a blast that threw them apart.</p><p>Hidden by the dust cloud caused by the explosion, stood a silhouette of a figure, a blade as large as his in its hand. The figure was turned to Triptolemus, his mother behind him. Through the buzzing in his ears, he could hear his mother begging the man to stop and as the fog cleared, he recognized who it was.</p><p><em>The damned bastard</em>.</p><p>"Hello father. Have you finally come to get and know your son?" asked Triptolemus, his jaws clenched to prevent them from trembling. He would not show his fear.</p><p>"To know…" Ouranos sneered at him, eyes burning with hatred. "No. To kill."</p><p>His father leapt forward and swung his blade. Triptolemus now weaponless, his sword still lodged in his mother's throne, raised his arms and blocked the blow with his gauntlets.</p><p>"So, this is what it has come to, father? Killing your own son while he is unarmed."</p><p>"I have others," he snarled.</p><p>"Where is your honour. At least let me retrieve my weapon before we duel.<em>"</em></p><p>"There is no honour in whatever it is that you are. I will not be challenged by you. Your very existence mocks the balance of the world," Ouranos lifted his blade preparing to strike again. "I should have done this a long time ago".</p><p>"<em>Stop!" </em>A broken cry from his mother. "All high and mighty with your sense of purpose. You come here to kill our son because you fear that he will attack us." She tried to approach them but Ouranos had solidified the air, forming an invisible wall. "Don't you see that you are becoming what you fear. What ever happened to us? Do not do this. You will not forgive yourself. I will not forgive you."</p><p>Ouranos turned to his wife with a pained expression, "I have to."</p><p>Triptolemus used the distraction to his favour and twisted his father's wrist, causing him to release his blade. With his other hand, he caught the falling sword and drove it through his father's chest. Shock then terror then rage spread across his features as he fell to his knees.</p><p>"No! What have you done?" Gaia looked torn, unable to register what had just happened—her entire world crumbling around her.</p><p>"What I had to—" His voice failed him as blood rushed up his throat, gurgling and choking as white-hot pain flared through him.</p><p>His father had ripped the blade from his own chest and impaled it into his. Triptolemus too, fell to his knees. And so there they were, face-to-face, father and son, both having dealt a fatal blow.</p><hr/><p>Triptolemus's eyes shot open as he struggled for air. His breaths, icy sharp shards that tore at his heart—where a hole should have been, yet not.</p><p>He scanned his unfamiliar surroundings, weary of any threats. A hellish landscape of black and red, too dark for anything further than an arm's reach to be made out. Next to him knelt a lady in a long flowing dress. She was olive skinned and had dark curly hair.</p><p>But what caught his attention were the images constantly shifting on her dress and flowing down the fabric like a waterfall of colours. As he focused his mind, he realised that they weren't any old images. No—they were his memories, brought to life by some kind of ethereal energy. He hated every moment of it. The reminder of all his pain.</p><p>"Who are you?" He asked, trying his best not to sound too unnerved.</p><p>"Is that any way to greet your sister?" A small smile playing on her lips.</p><p>He backed away from her, "My Si—Sister. A primordial?"</p><p>"No, I am a Titan just like you. You can call me Mynesmone. I have been looking for you for weeks, roaming the plains of Tartarus."</p><p><em>Tartarus. </em>So that was where he was—where he had been. But for how long? How was he still here? How did she know of him? How did she find him?</p><p>"One question at a time," she pulled him to his feet.</p><p>She could read his thoughts. A dangerous thing. He'd have to keep his guard up.</p><p>"Finding you was easy. Your memories screamed out to me. Day after day you replayed the same memory over and over again in your mind."</p><p>Again, that same question. How long had it been?</p><p>"I do not know, brother. Too long. It was another time, another world. I only know of you because I was very close to mother and you always were her favourite. That and the fact that I am the Titan of memories. She never forgot about you. Not for a single moment."</p><p>Anger swelled in his chest, threatening to explode. "From where I'm standing, it looks like she did" he said bitterly.</p><p>"Do not be a petulant fool. She may have had other children, but you always had a special place in her heart. You would not be here if it weren't for her. Somehow, she preserved your essence as you were dying."</p><p>She made an attempt to wrap a comforting arm around him. He slithered out of reach. He was not ready for that. He did not know if he would ever be ready for that. To be cherished or even cared for by anyone other than his mother.</p><p>Something like hurt flitted past her features.</p><p>"So, what changed? Why did father not try to kill you like he did me?" He asked, his voice gentler than it had been before.</p><p>"Thanks to you, he was the first primordial to ever be killed. His death though was not permanent, being the embodiment of the sky and all. But he came back a changed man. Mellowed, would be the right term." She smiled slightly as she spoke.</p><p>"So, where is he now?"</p><p>"Rotting in Tartarus just like us. Mother never forgave him. So, when our brothers came of age, she asked them to slice him to pieces and throw his remains into the pit."</p><p>Triptolemus tried his best not to smile at that. The cruelty and morbidity of it. At the fact that his mother never stopped avenging him. "He got what he deserved"</p><p>"He did."</p><p>"What happened next?"</p><p>"After that…" She leaned forward, face inches away from his. "It's best I show you."</p><p>This time he didn't flinch away from her. For some reason, he trusted her. Perhaps it was the way her eyes glimmered with that light? Or perhaps it was how her movements reminded him of his mother—their mother.</p><p>She placed both her palms to his temple and rested her brow against his.</p><p>Triptolemus fell. Not into that void he had been falling through for some time now, but into a space full of colour. A life full of love. It was almost too much for him to take as he choked back a sob. Mynesmone had been by their mother's side all her life. Like he had once been.</p><p>He wanted to look away, yet he had never found a task so impossible.</p><p>The images shifted as though he was being steered through her life.</p><p>A man on a golden throne, his eyes the same shade as it.</p><p><em>Kronos.</em> Said her voice in his head. <em>Our youngest brother. He was the one who dealt the final blow to father. After, he ruled as King of the Titans. And so, ensued the Golden Age.</em></p><p>
  <em>Where is mother in all of this?</em>
</p><p>The images sped by again.</p><p>
  <em>She was tired of it all, so she stepped back and let us rule the world.</em>
</p><p>This time when the images stopped, there was no more joy or colour. A bleak world.</p><p>
  <em>Our brother went mad with power. Just like father had.</em>
</p><p>He watched as unknown beings cut his brother to pieces.</p><p>
  <em>Who?</em>
</p><p><em>A new race of gods. Our descendants. Kronos's children in fact</em>.</p><p><em>The cycle of life</em>…</p><p><em>What? </em>The first question that came from her instead of him.</p><p>
  <em>It was just something mother told me. Where is she now? I need to find her.</em>
</p><p>Silence. Yet, the images still rushed forward and stopped in a location he did not recognise at all. A different temple than the one Kronos had sat in. A furious battle of light and energy rampaging in the streets below. His mother, hopelessness written across every line of her beautiful face.</p><p>
  <em>Mother tried her best to restore us to power. Going as far as to wage a war in our name. Yet it was the gods who triumphed once again.</em>
</p><p><em>You have not answered my question.</em> He hated this feeling that ebbed within him now. The suffocating nature of it. It could not be.</p><p>
  <em>She was killed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No. She will return.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yes. Yes, she will. But it might be a millennium more before she does. Now she slumbers and all we can do is avenge her.</em>
</p><p>The ground beneath him shattered as he tumbled back to reality, his vision spinning. He held his sister's gaze as he spoke. "I will do it. Avenge her as she avenged me."</p><p>He pulled away and suddenly a weight materialised in his hand—a blade. His father's blade.</p><p>Mynesmone too recognised the blade, her eyes wide. "Keep it. As the eldest Titan, it belongs to you now. May it serve you well."</p><p>"Where are the rest of the Ti—our siblings, I mean." The fact still foreign to him. A family out there that may care for him.</p><p>"Those who did not fight in the Titanomachy or had sided with the gods, that being most of our sisters, were allowed to do as they wish. Those who fought for Kronos out of self-preservation, and did not truly believe in his cause were imprisoned for a time. But the gods were forgiving enough and released them." Her voice laced with spite as she spoke that last sentence. "The rest were and are still imprisoned here as we speak".</p><p>"How do we get out of here?"</p><p>"<em>You </em>will be getting out of here through that door," she pointed past him.</p><p>He turned and saw a house, which he was pretty sure had not been there a moment ago. It was black as black could be—the absolute absence of light—as if he were staring into the void itself.</p><p>"Why won't you join me?" he asked sincerely. She was the first person other than his mother that had ever shown any sort of compassion towards him. It felt wrong leaving her in Tartarus, having just met.</p><p>"The house is not at full power; it will not be able to send more than one of us through," She urged him on. "I will look for the rest of our siblings still in Tartarus and free them to assist our cause. It is time we took back what is ours."</p><p>He approached her and gathered her into an awkward hug. "Where do I go, once I'm on the other side?"</p><p>"Go to Mount Othrys. As a monument to you, mother built the titan stronghold where you were killed."</p><p>"Then what? I know nothing of this new world or these new gods."</p><p><em>Do not worry. </em>Her voice in his mind like it had been earlier. <em>Our minds are melded now</em>. <em>I'll be with you every step of the way. All you have to do is call.</em> <em>Go. Before the house moves.</em></p><p>He released their embrace and turned to the door. <em>For Mother</em> he whispered under his breath and through their mind link before stepping through the doorway.</p><hr/><p>Edited 29th Apr 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>All comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated</strong>
</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Wings of Death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thank you all for reading. And thanks especially for the bookmarks.<br/>This one is the continuation of Percy’s journey. Unfortunately, there is no Thalia in this chapter, but her continuation is in chapter 6 and it is also wholly dedicated to her. I apologise for the slow pace, but once characters meet, you will see them more often.<br/>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Percy</p><p>Every breath reminded him of the smell—<em>gods the smell</em>. And every time he blinked; the images greeted him in the darkness. Flashes of what he had seen, flashes of moments—memories of those people over the years. Their names did not come to him now…</p><p>Too many. Every single one a life unfulfilled.</p><p>He had failed. Broken bodies. Broken families…</p><p>A broken promise to that young girl.</p><p>That was the thought that kept him going. That and the countless others who had been bunkered down in the council hall—his mother being one of them.</p><p>His heart roared in his chest, thundering against his ribs. A call to action that sang through him. One that was at war with the dread the crept over his heart—</p><p>Dark figures circled above the village. A small pack of crows by the looks of it. A deadly omen if he had ever seen one. He dragged his gaze back to the village—still too far out to see through the mist and make out what was happening.</p><p>Hopefully nothing. It hadn't been too long since he left. Surely everything would be fine. It had to be.</p><p>He was wrong—completely and utterly wrong.</p><p>First came the sounds. A chorus of ear-splitting shrieks that would inspire terror even in the bravest of souls. Scattered occasionally amongst the shrieks were screams—human screams.</p><p>Then came the smell, similar to that of…</p><p>Toxic fumes that overwhelmed all other senses and only left him with a sense of dread. He felt himself starting to drift away with the fumes, as if he were no longer anchored to this world.</p><p>That was when he realised his mistake. Those dark blots in the sky hadn't been crows at all. In fact, they were as far from it as they could possibly be. Easily larger than fifty crows put together.</p><p>Were those the creatures that had killed the villagers? Had they come now to finish the job?</p><p>Percy needed a weapon—anything at all. He scanned his boat, eyes landing on his trident.</p><p>It would have to do. If there was anything resembling a weapon that Percy could wield with some skill, it would be the trident. He had been using them to fish for many a year.</p><p>The moment his boat slammed against the docks, he launched himself onto the walkway, heading straight for the council hall with only one thought on his mind; to find his mother.</p><p>Perhaps it was selfish of him, but what he saw as he ran through the streets wrapped his heart in fear; made it seem like the only thing that mattered was her. He offered a silent prayer to the gods—to keep her safe.</p><p>The villagers were acting strange. One man was kneeling at the foot of his house, banging his head against his door. Another curled in a fetal position, sobbing his lungs out.</p><p>Further ahead—a woman holding a knife out in defense, wholly fixated on something to her far right that was hidden behind a farmer's hut. Suddenly, she turned her knife on herself, bringing it towards her neck slowly, hands trembling as if she were trying to fight the inclination. Out of a reflex born of panic, Percy spun his trident so that the blunt end faced the women and launched his trident with all his might.</p><p>Time seemed to slow down as his trident sailed through the air, the knife inching ever closer to her neck. His trident hit the woman in her side, knocking her to the ground.</p><p>His only thought as he ran and dropped to his knees beside the woman was that he had been too late. Thankfully, he was mistaken. Thankfully, his aim had been true.</p><p>She had not yet cut deep enough to slice any major arteries or cause permanent damage—physical one at least. He did not know if she would ever recover from what had affected her—had affected nearly every villager. Whatever it was, it had left her unconscious. Percy was sure that he had not thrown his trident <em>that</em> hard.</p><p>Before he returned to his feet or even got a glimpse of what had caused the woman to act that way, an immense weight pushed him to the ground, his cheeks scraping roughly against the gravel.</p><p>He struggled to shake of the weight, making no progress as his arms were pinned, stones digging deeper and drawing blood. It had to be those creatures from before, judging from the leathery feel of their skin against his.</p><p>He had to try something other than struggle. So, he stopped moving completely. Perhaps it would think him dead and leave—</p><p>Stabbing, searing pain shot through his flesh then his bones, and just when he thought there could be no pain worse than this, it travelled down his spine, spilling down it in swathes of fire. It was as if he were being ripped to shreds.</p><p>Through the pain of it all, Percy heard a loud thud followed by a shriek, as the weight upon him eased. He attempted to push himself from the ground, but that fire burned brighter, causing his vision to blur and his knees to wobble.</p><p>He tumbled forward but was caught by a strongly-muscled arm. He lifted his eyes and came face-to-face to a man he recognized—one of the many. But this was the first to look at him with life still in his eyes, clarity even. It was Damascus, the village blacksmith.</p><p>"Percy? What are you doing here? I thought you were in the council hall with the others." As he spoke, Damascus rushed over and gently lifted the woman into his arms.</p><p>"I was. But…" The words did not come to him, his eyes landing on the creature slumped at the side of the road.</p><p>"It got you good. It's a miracle you're standing."</p><p>It was a hideous thing—straight out of nightmare. Giant leathery wings attached to a woman's body covered in dark feathers from the neck down. Yet the part that scared him the most—that would leave a mark on him for a long time to come was ironically its most human feature. Its face, sharp, cruel and twisted. Its eyes, eerily yellow orbs that lacked pupils.</p><p>"You saved my life," said Percy, reaching to feel his back. It was slick and raw, and even the slightest pressure hurt like hell. When he brought up his hand for inspection, it was coated in his blood. That explained the pain and light-headedness.</p><p>"It was the least I could do," Damascus nodded towards the lady in his arms, his eyes gleaming. "You saved my wife. Help me get her to safety, will you?"</p><p>Damascus's wife. That was who Percy had hit with his trident. It had been necessary of course, but the guilt of it still weighed on him.</p><p>Percy looked out to the horizon, trying his best not to wince at all the pain and destruction, and noticed a house untouched from the attack, unlike the others that had either crumbled or burnt to shreds. A shining beacon of hope amongst the darkness.</p><p>"Over there, just up ahead. You carry her and I'll watch your back." And that was what they did, inching ever closer to safety.</p><p>Out of nowhere, something flew towards Damascus. Percy leapt forward and swung his trident, knocking it out of the way. The motion causing him a great deal of pain.</p><p>He took a glimpse at the projectile—a stone larger than his fist—and identified its source. To their left, was a man, another rock in his hand. He charged towards them with a crazed look but Percy intercepted him, bringing down his trident in a wide arc and knocking him off his feet.</p><p>They stumbled into the house and locked themselves in. Damascus laid his wife onto the bed in the corner and kissed her on the forehead.</p><p>"What happened here?" Percy asked</p><p>"I can't explain it. All of a sudden, most of the villagers went mad, some with grief, others with rage, ranting and raving. That was how it started. But then those creatures appeared in the sky; and the closer they got, the stronger the effects. Villagers started attacking one another, hurting themselves too." His eyes darkened at that. So, he had seen what his wife had been on the brink of doing.</p><p>"Some of them set fire to their homes while others smashed everything in sight. Fear seemed to seep from the very air and straight into our bones."</p><p>"How are we not affected?"</p><p>Damascus raised his brows as if to ask, <em>are you? Not affected, that is.</em></p><p>Percy ignored the silent question, too worried about his mother to even care.</p><p>"I wouldn't know," Damascus pressed on. "A handful of us were not fully affected and still had some control over our senses. Together, we tried our best to fight off the creatures. Alas, we could only take out one of the five creatures before the rest were killed."</p><p>"So… assuming the creature that we left back there is truly dead,"</p><p>"It is. You don't want to see them when they're alive."</p><p>"Then we are left with only three of these winged demons. We can take them." Percy wrapped his trembling fingers firmly against his trident.</p><p>"I see the trident I forged has served you well," Damascus smiled sadly at him, as he moved to block the door. His face now dead serious. "But we have to stay here. It would be suicide to go and seek them out. To add to things, we do not know if the others can be saved. I watched the council hall go up in flames."</p><p>Percy's heart stopped. "What?"</p><p>Damascus avoided his stare, stealing glances of his wife from above his shoulder.</p><p>"Why didn't you say anything?" Percy was not angry, just afraid. His whole world…</p><p>No, she had to be out there. They had to be out there.</p><p>"If there is even the slightest chance that they had gotten out," <em>surely his mother would have found a way to usher the children and the sick to safety</em>.</p><p>"There isn't."</p><p>"I'd rather die than not try. What if they need us? What if they are out there now in the same situation your wife was in?" Percy challenged, clenching his jaw. Damascus had no words left in him. "I'm going with or without you. Take good care of your wife."</p><p>Percy pushed past him and through the doorway, cursing under his breath. Perhaps he had been too harsh on the man. He could not hold it against him. If he had been in the same position, his mother safe and away from trouble, would he have risked everything and left her for the slightest of chances?</p><p>He knew what his mother would have wanted, yet he did not dare answer the question.</p><p>Running through the gauntlet of crazed villagers and a range of other hazards, he stumbled to a stop in front of the council hall. At least, where it used to be. Where it stood was now only a pile of ashes. Yet, there were no signs of bodies. Hope flared through him, counteracting the pain in his back.</p><p>She had succeeded. But where was she now? And where were the rest of the children and the sick. Perhaps they had scattered across the wind, running to safety—anywhere that wasn't Kastelli.</p><p>Yet his drifting eyes fell upon his home. One of the demons was trying to rip a hole in its roof. Which could only mean one thing. For some reason or another, his mother was there.</p><p>He ran as fast as his legs would carry him and when he was close enough to be seen by the creature, kept his knees bent and stealthily approached the house.</p><p>
  <em>Snap!</em>
</p><p><em>Idiot</em>. He had stepped on a twig. The demon snapped its head in Percy's direction, who in the moment, had forgotten the condition of his back and quickly slammed himself against the stone foundations of his house, praying that the overhang of the roof kept him out of the demon's field of view.</p><p>Again, that searing pain, worse than it had ever been before. It took everything within him to not scream in agony.</p><p>The shadow of the creature grew larger as it clawed down the roof to investigate the sound. The waves of impending dread crested in him as the tips of it wings poked forth from the overhang.</p><p>This would be his end—</p><p>A loud crash.</p><p>Another shriek.</p><p>And the shadow was gone.</p><p>Percy let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.</p><p>The front door swung open and his mother's head popped out from its frame</p><p>"Get in—faster before the creature-" her voice drowned out by another screech that was followed by the howl of slicing wind.</p><p>Percy stumbled forth to the doorway—to his mother and looked over his shoulder. The demon had flown down, impossibly fast, and was already hobbling—in that strange way that it did—towards the door, merely a foot from where he stood.</p><p>Before Percy could react, it halted, gleaming metal slicing through its wing. It screeched louder than before—one of desperation rather than hunger for whatever it is these creatures fed on. It veered to the left, not at all used to the imbalance of only having one wing.</p><p>Behind it, stood Damascus. A large steel blade in his hand.</p><p>"You came back!" Percy smiled at him.</p><p>"What can I say, your heroism inspired me." As he spoke, he swerved out of reach of the demon's claw comfortably. Yet, he could not anticipate the sheer speed of the creature's other claw that came at him from the opposing direction. It caught him straight through the neck, throwing him like a ragdoll at Percy's feet.</p><p>Damascus's blood spurted across him. A glance down nearly sent his guts hurling.</p><p>Damascus was dead, neck bent unnaturally, skin peeled forth, blood everywhere. The blow so furious and deep, he had died instantly.</p><p>Another dead. It was too much for him to take. In a fit of fury, Percy threw his trident at the creature. Aim once again true, it pierced the leathery skin of the demon's remaining wing, pinning it to the earth.</p><p>His mother pulled him in the house and slammed the door shut. "Percy, there's no time to waste, we need to secure the door to buy us some time."</p><p>She ran to the nearest cabinet and shoved her shoulders into it, moving it towards the door. Percy would've joined her but was now drifting through the thin line that was his consciousness. Useless. That was what he was.</p><p>His mother, noticing his condition, moved him to the nearest chair as gently as possible.</p><p>"Percy, you have to stay with me." she begged.</p><p>She left him there and scrambled through the cabinets—for what he did not know. She was whispering under her breath. Frantic words that he in his condition, could not quite make out. Something along the lines of "… my fault … selfish … sent him…"</p><p>She returned with a roll of bandages.</p><p>"It's not much, but it'll have to do," she peeled away the torn segment of his chiton from his back and tied it around his waist before wrapping the bandage around his torso.</p><p>"This should help stop the bleeding at least. Take this," she pressed something small and cold yet utterly warm at the same time into his palm.</p><p>He looked at it. Beautiful yet unassuming. A ring made of the finest crystal. Completely translucent with a tinge of blue. He was going to ask her what it was, confused as to why it is, she thought now was the time for this.</p><p>"It was a gift from your father."</p><p><em>His father's ring</em>. He slipped it on and nodded for her to continue.</p><p>"Listen to me very closely. We have to flee to the mainland and cross the Corinthian Gulf."</p><p>"What about the village?" Percy's voice trailing off as darkness beckoned.</p><p>The groan of something scraping against wood filled their small house. Claws. The creatures were trying to get through their temporary blockade. The scraping turned into thuds. Louder and louder.</p><p>"Percy," his mother grabbed him by the shoulders. "We need to go <em>now. </em>The village will be safe once we leave."</p><p>"Why?" Percy asked, groggily getting to his feet. With his mother's support, he managed to slowly limp his way to the back door.</p><p>"I don't know how to put this. The creatures came here for <em>you. </em>Because of who you are," A tortured expression on her face. Guilt for keeping a secret from him. He wanted nothing more than to comfort her.</p><p>Before he could do so, and before she elaborated further, the cabinet doors burst open, revealing the demon—now wingless.</p><p>It rushed forward, claws out, releasing another horrid screech from its wrinkled lips.</p><p>"I'm sorry." His mother turned to him, eyes gleaming with tears and pushed him out the doorway.</p><p>Even with all the pain. Even on the brink of consciousness, the thought of his mother in danger spurred him into action. He whirled back towards the doorway but it had already been shut.</p><p>Percy was ready to kick the door down when he heard the cries of children.</p><p>Emily. She and two other children were huddling behind his neighbor's house, another creature hovering above them.</p><p><em>No.</em> Not like this. Not now. An impossible choice. Either way, he would never forgive himself. So, he did what his mother would have wanted him to.</p><p>Percy, now weaponless, sprinted towards the children and stood over them, arms raised protectively. Much use, that would do. But he had to at least try.</p><p>The demon dived down; claws outstretched. Percy spun out of the way, ignoring the pain in his back—grimacing it away. Still turning, he wrapped his arms around the demon's torso. They fell to the ground, the demon struggling, wings beating violently against him. Hitting him both in the face and the back.</p><p>The creature's screech turned into a scream. As if it were being burnt alive. Maybe it was. The finger on which his father's ring sat, thrummed with power and he could've have sworn he'd seen a burn mark on the creature's wing, where it had come into contact with it.</p><p>A tap on his shoulder brought him back to reality. Emily was nudging him with her feet, hand stretched out, offering him a jagged rock. It would have to do.</p><p>Wrapping his thighs around the demon, he used his newly freed hands to take the rock from her and bring it down with whatever strength he had left onto the creature's skull.</p><p>A loud cracked thundered through the creature, reverberating through his bones too. Again, and again he slammed the rock, not stopping till it lay completely still.</p><p>He caught a glimpse of another demon, the one that was previously unaccounted for. It flew straight through the roof of his house, slamming through stone and brick.</p><p>He tried to pull himself to his feet but his body failed him. Or perhaps it was his will that was failing. Everything he had ever feared was coming to pass—unravelling before his very eyes. And he was powerless to stop it.</p><p>The crushing weight of the matter overloaded his senses. He had failed Emily. He had failed Damascus. And now he was about to fail his mother.</p><p>He had never felt fear so strong—paralyzingly so.</p><p>He could see her now, through the window. She was backed up against the wall, surrounded by three of those creatures.</p><p>
  <em>No!</em>
</p><p>The demons closed in, blocking her from his view. Blood flew in streaks.</p><p>He broke into a fit of painful sobs. His world had ended. He wanted it to end now. For it all to end. For it to be over. The pain. The fear.</p><p>A pair of hands shaking him.</p><p>"Percy?" It was Emily's voice. He opened his eyes to those sage green ones of hers. The hope in them. The life. "Are you, alright. Did you find my parents?"</p><p>
  <em>Oh gods.</em>
</p><p>"Emily," He looked at her with as much courage as he could muster. "They're gone." Her eyes already welling up with tears. "But you are strong, are you not?"</p><p>She nodded.</p><p>He brushed away her tears. "You saved me. Now I need you to save your friends. Run away from here. Get as far as you can. If you see others who are running too, join them. Stay away from anyone or anything that seems dangerous and try to stick to the path. Eventually you'll find a safe place."</p><p>She wrapped her delicate arms around his waist and pressed her face to his stomach. "Will you come with us?"</p><p>"I can't. There is something I need to do." He cradled the back of her head with one hand, rubbing soothing circles on her back with his other. "But I will find you again one day. And then you can save me again, okay?"</p><p>Again, she nodded.</p><p>"Go," he breathed. She did.</p><p>He knew what it is he had to do now, his mother's words in his mind. <em>The village will be safe once we leave</em>. But now only he would be leaving. With what little was left of his strength, he stumbled to the pier, avoiding looking through the window of his house again. That he was not ready for. That he would never be ready for.</p><hr/><p>Edited 29th Apr 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>All comments and kudos are greatly appreciated</strong>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Of Knives, Swords & Chakrams</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks again for the continued support. I truly appreciate all of you.</p><p>If you guys wanted to know, I actually started writing this fic in November. So…yeah. I took eight months to write it, but back then, it was the first thing I'd ever written and my writing was nowhere near my current level. That's why I'm taking nearly a whole day to edit these.</p><p>I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. More to come soon.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe</p><p>"Ready?" Chloe asked, attention fixated on those calculating grey eyes.</p><p>"Always," Annabeth replied, brandishing her hunting knives.</p><p>In response, Chloe willed her bracelets to transform. Twin chakrams made out of vine, their outer rings reinforced with a sharp sheet of bronze. To top it all off, bronze thorns were embedded at equal intervals along its circumference.</p><p>They circled each other, looking for an opening, neither willing to make the first move and expose their defenses.</p><p>"Will you guys strike already? We don't got all day," Damian said exasperatedly.</p><p>"Shut up, Damian," Annabeth said playfully. "We're concentrating."</p><p>"I'm sorry, but you know…" Chloe paused and shot him a smile. "She does have a point."</p><p>"<em>Oh</em>, that's how it's gonna be. Here I've been, waiting ages for the both of you to attack each other, instead you turn your sights on me" Damian rested a palm against his chest, feigning hurt.</p><p>"Please," Annabeth looked at him with lowered brows. "Don't be overdramatic. It doesn't suit you."</p><p>They continued circling, quicker than before.</p><p>"Besides," Annabeth continued, eyes glancing every now and then towards Damian. This was her chance to make a move. "Not all of us use weapons as large as yours." Another glance—this time at Damian's weapon. A broadsword he was currently leaning his weight against. "Smaller weapons require more precision and thought. We don't have the privilege of making a mistake. One wrong move-"</p><p>"-and you're toast," Damian finished for her.</p><p>Annabeth, who Chloe knew hated being interrupted, glared at Damian.</p><p>He raised his hands in defence. "Don't look at me like that. I didn't pick your weapons for you."</p><p>Chloe wanted to smile at their antics, but that ugly feeling that had found its way into her ever since the council meeting, once again reared its head.</p><p>"Umm guys…shouldn't we get back to training? After all, your quest is tomorrow." Chloe ducked her head as she said it, not wanting them to spot the fear in her eyes. To infect them with it. She had to be strong for them.</p><p>Annabeth and Damian exchanged sheepish glances.</p><p>They had read her like an open book. They always had.</p><p>"We'll be okay," Damian approached her and she lifted her gaze to his.</p><p>That beautiful smile of his radiating warmth and comfort. So much so that she almost forgot her fears in an instant. Yet, that nagging doubt still trickled through her veins. The ominous feeling that something would go wrong on their quest.</p><p>How could it not? They were in unprecedented times. There would be danger in every corner of the mainland. Chloe shoved those doubts down, to wherever it is she buried all her fears, and attempted her best smile. <em>For them,</em> she reminded herself. For them she would have to stay strong.</p><p>With straightened shoulders and a lifted chin, Chloe returned to her battle stance, offering Damian the slightest of nods, signaling to him that she would be alright. He moved out of the way.</p><p>Taking a deep breath, Chloe rushed Annabeth, chakrams at the ready. Both of them knowing agility would be the decider of this contest.</p><p>Annabeth swung first, lunging forward with one of her hunting knives. Chloe leaned back to avoid the blow, Annabeth's knife passing just above her chest. She spun her waist and used the momentum to strike hard at Annabeth's side who dodged it with a back-step.</p><p>The fight continued as they spun in tandem. A blur of blades, hair and armour. Neither able to land a blow.</p><p>Annabeth was going easy on her. Chloe knew it. Perhaps she was distracted by her own worries or perhaps it was an attempt to make her feel better. It didn't. But the joy of sparring with her did.</p><p>Eventually, she begun to tire and make mistakes, no longer able to dodge Annabeth's blows, instead, meeting them head on with her own. The clang and rasp of metal against metal filled the training grounds.</p><p>"Come on, Chloe!" Damian cheered, clearly enjoying the ferocious display. He had always loved battle. Loved it more than anything…<em>almost anything.</em></p><p>Chloe smiled at the thought. At the memory of last night. The way his lips had formed those three words. Nothing more than a breath. The lightest words with the heaviest of meanings.</p><p>In her daze, Annabeth had dealt the winning blow, the flat of her blade pressed lightly against her neck.</p><p>"Do you yield?" Annabeth asked gleefully</p><p>"That's not fair," Chloe pouted. "Damian distracted me."</p><p>"He was cheering you on; over me I might add" Annabeth pointed at Damian accusatorily. "Since when have you picked sides. You guys have been spending way too much time together. Is it because of what happened last night?" Annabeth's signature sly smile playing on her lips.</p><p>"Nothing happened," Chloe said, probably far too quickly. So did Damian. "And I have to agree with her on this one. You shouldn't pick sides."</p><p>"Does every conversation have to turn on me" he shook his head in disbelief. "I was just trying to be a supportive boyfriend." Warmth rose from her stomach and all the way to her cheeks at the word.</p><p>"<em>Really</em>?" Annabeth scoffed; eyes narrowed. "You have fancied each other since you met, and have been best friends for five years now. And… if I have been counting correctly," She raised her fingers, one by one, in a painstakingly slow manner to exaggerate her point. "You have been dating for <em>six</em> <em>months</em> and I have yet to see you kiss. I swear, sometimes I wonder why it is I bother with the two of you. You're both of age; just get married already and put me out of my misery."</p><p>Annabeth was only joking. Yet, the suggestion made something within Chloe leap. Out of surprise or joy, she wasn't sure. Perhaps both. Tentatively, she stole a quick glance at Damian. And what she saw made whatever it is that leapt come crashing straight back down. Her heart with it.</p><p>He was shifting his weight from one foot to another in clear discomfort, hands shooting straight for his pockets, avoiding her eyes at all cost.</p><p>To make matters worse, he quickly changed the topic at hand.</p><p>"Is it my turn to spar yet?" he asked</p><p>"What's the point?" Annabeth replied dejectedly. "You always win."</p><p>"What kind of defeatist attitude is that?" Chloe asked, punching Annabeth's shoulder lightly. She knew why Annabeth was acting this way. Chloe had seen how she'd reacted to Dorian's words. <em>I would have preferred Thaddeus</em>. For Annabeth, who always strived to be the best, that would have been a difficult statement to swallow.</p><p>But Dorian had his reasons. Thaddeus was the most formidable of warriors. Death ran in his blood—being a son of Hades and all. He and his wife, Lily, a daughter of Hephaestus, were the first to be sent on a quest when the attacks started. She missed them dearly. Their presence had always made her feel safe.</p><p>"Look at me," Chloe nudged Annabeth by the shoulder. "I almost always lose to the both of you and it has never stopped me before. How bout we fight two on one?" She suggested.</p><p>"Agreed," They grinned before turning their sights on Damian.</p><p>"I rest my case," Damian picked up his broadsword, twirling it. "Not only every conversation, but every situation seems to turn against me."</p><p>They were formidable fighters in their own right but even together the odds were against them. Damian was arguably the best swordsman in Hemitheopolis, behind Thaddeus. Of course, Damian had the advantage of growing up in Hemitheopolis.</p><p>Chloe and Annabeth worked as one—two sides of a perfectly sharp blade. An after effect of growing up together. They timed their attacks to perfection; blow after blow, never leaving enough space or time for Damian to attempt a strike of his own.</p><p>He was forced to dodge or parry every slice and stab with the utmost precision. It was a marvel to watch him move. Despite his unwieldy weapon, he matched the pace of their attacks with ease—</p><p>Chloe realised her error as she made it. She had advanced on Damian who had been facing Annabeth, thinking she had finally won. But as she lunged forward, he turned his head slightly, revealing a smirk.</p><p>She had overcommitted; not in keeping with their plan of attacking Damian methodically till he tired and left an opening, thus falling for his bait.</p><p>He sidestepped.</p><p>And Chloe came crashing face first into Annabeth, both of them falling to the ground in spectacular fashion. Chloe held her face and groaned in discomfort.</p><p>Had she broken her nose? And more importantly, was Annabeth alright?</p><p>Her worries were interrupted by a pair of warm hands lifting hers from her face.</p><p>Damian's eyes looked down on hers. Concern written across every shade of blue. He was kneeling at her side, one hand on her shoulder, the other still holding hers. She had never felt more exposed as his brilliant eyes darted all over her, examining her body for any injuries.</p><p><em>Gods, </em>the effect he had on her still hadn't worn off. In fact, it had only gotten stronger.</p><p>"Looks alright." A guilty smile. Still as warm. Still as beautiful. She'd have to get her revenge. "Doesn't look like you will require any medical attention."</p><p>Chloe tightened her grip on his hand and pulled him down <em>hard</em>. He landed next to her, wincing in pain.</p><p>"Oh come on, that's low, especially for you. Using my concern for you against me. I wouldn't have been surprised if it had been Annabeth but <em>you,</em>" he shook his head in disapproval. "And she claims it is I you have been spending way too much time with."</p><p>Chloe laughed softly, enjoying how flustered Damian was. Perhaps she had the same effect on him as he did on her.</p><p>"You guys still remember I'm here, right?" Annabeth stood above them, arms crossed. "You know, the person who just got barreled into, very painfully might I add, by her best friend."</p><p>It was Damian's turn to burst into laughter. They joined him, enjoying these last few hours together.</p><p>"It's almost time for dinner," Chloe interrupted the beautiful sound that chimed through the air. Damian's stomach let out a low growl. "I don't think Damian can afford to miss another meal."</p><hr/><p>Damian</p><p>"So, here's the plan." Annabeth said pushing aside the bowls and plates littered across their table. The dining hall was now empty, other than the odd group of demigods milling within its walls.</p><p>Damian reached for the bowl of roasted quail but Annabeth slapped his hand away. "I wasn't done with that," he whined. But one look at Chloe's worried expression told him enough. Now was not the time for jokes.</p><p>Annabeth rolled open a map of the mainland and pointed at Megara. The city state was just south of the mountain pass the Theban scouts had highlighted.</p><p>"At dawn tomorrow, we will travel east to Megara. If everything goes our way, we should be there by sun-down with time to spare."</p><p>Something about her calculations seemed off. It was unlike her.</p><p>"Which path would this be?" Damian asked, using the map to illustrate his point. "Are we sailing up to the north-eastern bank of Pagai and moving south from there or…are we sailing down along the Corinthian gulf and taking the road from Corinth to Megara? Either way, it is not a journey that can be made in half a day. Not by a long shot."</p><p>Annabeth eyed him and Chloe wearily. "You're not gonna like what I'm going to say next," A pause on her part, once again glancing at Chloe. "We'll be riding through the Terata Forest"</p><p><em>The forest of monsters. </em>A title that was a bit on the nose if he was being honest. But it had been named that for a very good reason. Only a fool would traverse it. A fool, or a foolhardy hero. He had always wondered if Hemitheopolis was built here of all places because of it. Perhaps it was their sacred duty to cull the monsters within or perhaps the monsters were there to protect them from the outside world.</p><p>"It's too dangerous." Chloe muttered under her breath, eyebrows knitted with worry. He was inclined to agree with her. Then again, he was always inclined to agree with her. How could he not?</p><p>"Are you trying to get yourselves killed?" she continued. This time with more conviction, her voice firm.</p><p>Annabeth and Chloe locked eyes. A silent understanding passed between them and Chloe seemed to relax as Annabeth placed a hand on her shoulder.</p><p>It was fascinating how they could communicate without words. Truth be told, he was a little jealous of Annabeth. Sometimes, he wished Chloe could understand him or vice versa without all the hassle and messiness of getting into a fight. Though, compared to most couples, they barely fought. They had always been in sync, in a way different than she was with Annabeth, but still as strong.</p><p>"Still, why are we taking the riskier route? We can't afford to lose anyone, <em>especially </em>now."</p><p>"I discussed it with Dorian earlier—"</p><p>When in the world had Annabeth found the time to discuss matters with Dorian? Sometimes he wondered if she had the ability to be at two places at once.</p><p>"Last I remembered, I was part of the quest too. And how did you even find the time?" he gestured frantically.</p><p>A small smile played on Chloe's lips; she had always found it funny when he got worked up. He was so distracted by her smile—and her lips that he almost forgot he was busy being offended.</p><p>"Wipe that dumb look off your face," Annabeth teased. "I know you won't be seeing her for some time but <em>sheesh, </em>get your act together. Any more of this mutual pining and you will find me in the infirmary."</p><p>Gods, Annabeth was right. He wouldn't see her again for at least a week. Probably not the point Annabeth was trying to get across but still. Today was the day. He had to brave his nerves, or he'd regret it.</p><p>Chloe had one hand above her mouth, trying her best to hold back her laughter. She was blushing. He could tell.</p><p>"Anyways, back to the point. Time is of the essence. This could be it, Damian. The end of this rising darkness. We have been on the back foot all this time. Don't you hate this feeling?" He did. "Let's take the fight to them."</p><p>"It's only worth taking the fight to them if you survive." Chloe added.</p><p>Annabeth shot her a glare.</p><p>"What? You know I'm right. The two of you are too important to Hemitheopolis...to me too."</p><p>"We'll be fine," said Damian confidently, more so to ease Chloe's worries than actually believing his words. "So, it's agreed. Let's get a good night's rest." he rose from his chair.</p><p>"We can't." Annabeth started. "We need to meet Dorian at the library to finalise the rest of the plans."</p><p>"Now? To the library at this ungodly hour?"</p><p>"You did ask to be included in the planning, no?" Annabeth replied proudly.</p><p>She always had the right words. And she always knew when to use his against him. He supposed to most people, it could be considered infuriating. But this had always been their song and dance. And even when he did get slightly annoyed, his love for her always shone through.</p><p>"You guys go ahead. I'll drop by the infirmary." Chloe squeezed his hand and let go. Damian sighed and watched her walk away. Chloe's patients were always on her mind. And it was that capacity for compassion that had made him fall head over heels for her. That had made him dream of a future together. It was time.</p><p>"Annabeth, I'll-" Damian started.</p><p>Annabeth offered him a knowing smile. "Go get her." She nudged him forward lightly.</p><p>Damian thanked her before running after Chloe.</p><hr/><p>Chloe</p><p>Chloe was on the way to the infirmary, when she heard footsteps. She turned to find Damian jogging up to her. She stopped and waited for him to catch up.</p><p>"What happened to going to the library?"</p><p>"I needed to take some maps from my room, so I thought I'd walk with you".</p><p>There was something about his tone, they way his voice hitched. It was what he did whenever he lied. Though, she couldn't be sure, after all, it was not common for him to do so.</p><p>"Chloe, you still there?" he asked</p><p>"Mmm…" She pushed away her thoughts. "What were you saying?"</p><p>"About earlier…<em>" </em>he looked far too nervous—or perhaps worried. As if his world was about to end. It didn't suit him. In fact, it made her worry too.</p><p>"What about it?" she held his gaze with intent. She did not want him going on this quest with any lingering doubts. A clouded mind was a dangerous thing.</p><p>He stared at her.</p><p>She stared back.</p><p>She did not know how long had passed. Only the comfort of holding each other in the mind's eye. Slowly, the nerves she spied on him transformed into something else altogether. Heavy and enlightening. A gentle squeeze to her heart. A look of complete adoration. She was surprised her heart continued beating at a steady pace. Usually, it would burst into a mad race when put in such situations. It was like a new kind of calm had settled over her. One she had never known before. A sort of belonging—</p><p>His expression transformed all over again. Abrupt, this time. Not at all as beautiful as before. But still…not the worry she had seen earlier. More like acceptance…perhaps defeat.</p><p>"Are you alright? From the fall I mean."</p><p>"Yup."</p><p>He tore his gaze from hers, ending that intensely intimate moment.</p><p>Something within her still burned from all the emotions he had offered her in that short span of time. Seconds or minutes, she did not know.</p><p>Chloe didn't mind the loss. Walking with him, even in complete silence, was comforting.</p><p>Yet, her heart lingered with concern. Something was still affecting him. She could see it in the way he avoided her gaze and the way his head hung low as he walked. Not at all the image of confidence he always was.</p><p>"We've arrived," he gestured towards the infirmary.</p><p>He sounded relieved.</p><p>And it felt like a thorn had embedded itself within her heart. The same thing she had felt when he had showed visible discomfort at <em>that </em>word.</p><p>Was spending time with her truly <em>that</em> bad?</p><p><em>Stop it</em>, she scolded herself. He had other problems and other worries. His world did not revolve around her. And neither did hers. Even if that was all she had ever wanted.</p><p>She kissed him lightly on the cheek. At least he hadn't flinched away from that.</p><p>"I'll be there tomorrow to see you and Annabeth off."</p><p>He nodded, staring at her once again. As if she were some sort of ethereal, unreachable presence. Then, he turned on his heels. And, so did she.</p><p>Before stepping foot into the infirmary, she snuck a glance over her shoulder</p><p>She had been right. He was lying. Instead of turning into the Temple of Apollo, he had headed straight back to the library.</p><p>If the prospect of spending time with her was so unpleasant, as he seemed to be signaling, why had he come all this way only to accompany her?</p><p>Chloe had never been more confused.</p><p>One look at her patients, and all other thoughts flitted out of her. They were all here for one reason and one reason only. They had gotten hurt while saving or protecting others. And for that, they deserved her full attention. It was the least she owed them.</p><hr/><p>Edited 29th Apr 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>How'd you guys like my OCs?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Please leave a review if you enjoyed the chapter</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I'd really appreciate it</strong>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Necklace & The Cloak</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A/N: Thanks again for the continued support. I truly appreciate all of you.</p><p>This is my longest chapter yet. It follows Thalia as said earlier.</p><p>I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. More to come soon.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p>
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    <p>Thalia</p><p>Thalia limped out of her bath feeling much better than she had earlier this morning. She could almost forget the pain. She had proved Cyril wrong. And more importantly, she had proved herself right. She was a natural-born warrior. Not because of the parents that birthed her but because of the time and effort she had put in. The sheer will.</p><p>Tomorrow would be the perfect chance to prove it—her worth.</p><p>But now…</p><p>Now she'd make the most of her final—yet somehow first—night of freedom.</p><p>Out of excitement, Thalia's mind conjured up an image of the city. Not the most accurate, seeing that she hadn't walked its streets since the start of her Agoge. But there were a couple of things that stood out vividly from her blurry recollection. The marketplace for one. An alley filled with life and colour. Women traipsing down the streets in elegant gowns—</p><p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p><p>She'd stick out like a sore thumb in…</p><p>Thalia, only now realising she didn't own any clothes other than her bone-white linen sleepwear and training gear. A glance into her cabinet only confirmed it. Either half, filled with a neatly folded stack of the aforementioned clothing. Contents as drab as the cabinet itself.</p><p>Shrugging her shoulders, she picked out a set of her training gear.</p><p>What could be the harm in a little extra protection, she supposed.</p><p>Fortunately for her, that particular set of armor had been dyed a dark brown for stealth training and would at least keep most eyes off her. Though, she would have preferred otherwise. To wear something truly stunning. To draw all attention upon her. To make her mark on this world for just one night.</p><p>A foolish dream. But one a young girl, abandoned by her parents, had always yearned for. The simplicity of it. Being wanted.</p><p><em>A fool</em>. That was what she was and always had been. Dedicating a life to proving people wrong. People she did not even know—</p><p>But Cyril. He had been there—</p><p>His cloak. She had his cloak. A family heirloom of his, passed down to her. Perhaps the only beautiful thing she had ever owned.</p><p>Thalia rummaged through her cabinet, for any sign of the cloak, ruining the only thing going for her cabinet—the fact that it was organised.</p><p>Truth be told, she did not remember where she had kept it and truth be told, it made her feel like a terrible, ungrateful waste of space. Like she had been that day, he'd gifted it to her.</p><p>Her seventh birthday, it was. Being a petulant child, she had thrown a fit. Mainly because it was the first gift, he'd given her up till that point—and for a child, seven years did seem like far too long a time.</p><p>But he had not been angry with her. She missed the days when he didn't scold her for every little mistake. Sometimes, she almost forgot how kind he could be. But he was doing it all for her. To prepare her for the outside world. <em>That</em> she could appreciate. That she would appreciate.</p><p>It was later that night that he came to her with a story. The story of his family…</p><hr/><p>"I had a wife and a child," Cyril said, kneeling to come face-to-face with a young Thalia. "Phoebe and Linus. We were very happy. Inseparable, in fact."</p><p>"Li…nus," she pronounced.</p><p>"Yes, Linus." he said with a sad smile. "A beautiful name. My wife chose it, of course."</p><p>"Where is he? How old is he now? Where is Phoebe?" Questions as incessant as the tugging on his hand.</p><p>Cyril let out a small laugh, clearly amused by her endless curiosity. "They are gone," a tear trickling down his cheek. "Linus would have been sixteen now. About to finish his Agoge and become a Spartan warrior. A journey you will soon be starting." He tapped her nose lightly.</p><p>The younger her, broke into a fit of giggles, enthusiastically brandishing an imaginary sword and waving it through the air. Cyril joined in the action, wielding an even larger blade. She feigned a look of terror and mimicked the motion of unslinging a bow. "<em>Woosh," </em>she said as she released her arrow.</p><p>Cyril's expression turned to one of shock, looking down at his chest. "You got me," he gasped, dramatically collapsing to the ground.</p><p>"Yay!" she exclaimed—doing a little jig on the spot. "I am the best warrior." She announced, hand on hips and chin tilted at a jaunty angle in childish arrogance. She ran over to Cyril and lay beside him still giggling. "So… what happened to them?" she asked. "Your family."</p><p>Cyril turned his head, so his eyes met hers. She could see the sadness reflected in them.</p><p>"Linus fell ill when he was six," he shook his head slightly. "He didn't make it. Not long after, Phoebe left."</p><p>Thalia frowned at that. She couldn't remember, now, what it was for. At the fact that Linus had never even grown to her age or that Cyril's wife had left him.</p><p>"No… no. I do not hold it against her. She could not bear the pain any longer. Every time she looked at me, she was reminded of him. No mother should have to feel such loss over and over again. Once is already too much."</p><p>Cyril rose to a sitting position, his back leaning against the frame of her bed. She scooted over to him, resting her head against his chest. He stroked the back of her head, combing her hair.</p><p><em>Gods</em>, she missed this. Such a simple gesture, but one that had brought her immeasurable comfort during those years of doubt.</p><p>Cyril pulled the cloak that hung from the bed from where she had so unceremoniously thrown it. He rested it on her shoulders, the rest of its length flowing behind them. "It was passed down from my father and his father before him. I was going to give it to Linus on his seventh birthday…" his voice trailed off, a lump forming in his throat.</p><p>"I love it," Thalia said, pulling the cloak further over her shoulders and embracing it. The motion causing the hood of the cloak, which was far too large for her head, to fall forward and cover her entire face. Cyril lifted the hood to be greeted with a frown.</p><p>Had she really been that grumpy? Insufferable, really.</p><p>Cyril stared at her for a moment, something like wonder flashing across those eyes, before he pulled her into his arms. She returned the embrace…</p><p>Thalia was pulled out of her memory by another. Countless others. Nights of holding the cloak close as she drifted to sleep. A source of both comfort and warmth. But as with all things in life, she grew out of the habit. She wished she hadn't—</p><p>But with the guilt came the recollection. She lowered herself to the ground so as to roll under the bed, only then realising she was nowhere near as small as she used to be. Bracing her palms against the wooden floor, and her shoulders against the bed, she shoved it aside, revealing the loose floorboard. Underneath it, an ornate box, no larger than a bow. And within it, the midnight-blue cloak, its hem lined with silver swirls.</p><p>A part of her wanted to pull it into her arms right now and never let go. To fall into bed with it and pretend for a moment that she was a child again. That her life was not about to be turned on its head in a day's time.</p><p>The cloak was thick enough to ward off the coldness of the outside world yet light enough to don for long periods of time. Perfect for travelling, and not too cumbersome for combat. She tried it on, smiling that after so many years, it finally fit her perfectly.</p><hr/><p>"No one is to leave camp after hours." the guard stood firm.</p><p>"Commander's orders." echoed the other guard as they crossed spears.</p><p>"You don't understand," Thalia protested. "I have permission from my Paidonomos." She tried ducking under their crossed spears but they were quick to react.</p><p>"Step no further," the first guard warned. "Or you will be harmed" he glared at her. She returned the glare with pleasure.</p><p>She could get Cyril to come over and let her through…</p><p>But what would be the fun in that.</p><p>With a completely serious façade, Thalia stepped back and sketched a bow. "I understand. Keep doing what you're doing."</p><p>There were other more interesting ways to leave the confines of this camp. It wouldn't be her first time. When she had been younger, Thalia had escaped many a time, only to be caught by Cyril. He had kept a close eye on her—closer than now—during those early years, knowing her to be far too curious for her own good.</p><p>Perhaps she still was.</p><p>The perimeter of the camp was lined with thick wooden spikes that were mostly to keep trainees in rather than enemies out. Not strong, but packed tightly enough to dissuade budding warriors from the temptations and distractions of the outside world.</p><p>Roughly sixty paces later, Thalia found herself exactly where she wanted to be. A tree close enough to the border, with branches that seemed sturdy enough. The lowest branch, though, was out of reach and the trunk too thick for her to wrap her limbs around.</p><p>Thalia smiled at the challenge. She had never let something as simple as that stop her. And she was not about to do so now.</p><p>She stepped back as far as possible—the wooden barricade digging into her back and bent her knees, taking a deep breath before charging towards the tree at maximum speed.</p><p>Just as she was about to slam face-first into its trunk, she kicked against it, using her momentum to launch herself up. She threw out her hand aimlessly, hoping to catch hold of one of the many branches—she did.</p><p>Pain flared down her wrist. Her joints had not yet recovered from her brutal training. But it was that brutality that stopped her from releasing her grip when the pain came. With her other arm, she pulled herself atop the branch.</p><p>The rest of the climb was a breeze. Branch after branch—never faltering. Once she was high enough, she stopped. Nothing more than a silhouette carved upon the moon. She wondered if she had her bow now, someone below might have thought they'd caught a glimpse of Lady Artemis.</p><p>Time was not on her side—she knew that. Yet, she could not help, but sit there on that branch, legs outstretched, back against the trunk, and breath in the view. And what a view it was.</p><p>Sparta, lights of all sizes and colours flickering through the city, setting it ablaze. A luminous canvas painted upon the landscape. Lights from candles and lanterns, bonfires even. A living, breathing thing.</p><p>Out in a distance, were the outlying villages of the great city, Mesoa and Pitana. Similar enough in architecture, but in comparison to the city, they seemed like nothing more than guttering embers. That was where the true power of the fire came from though—the fuel. It was those villagers that worked day and night to provide for the city. Beyond that…darkness. The faintest outline of the mountains. The contrast from light to dark was what truly made the view beautiful.</p><p>Thalia's attention drifted to the shield wall. Spartan warriors were known for their discipline and resilience—yet this was something else altogether. For all intents and purposes, they were in fact a wall—as still as one at least. One that had stood for days on end, never faltering.</p><p>She had heard the tales—everyone had. The ferocious stand these soldiers had made, fending off wave after wave of monsters, only taking short intervals of rest. Even from here, she could see a new row of soldiers forming at the rear of the phalanx, allowing the front-most row to retreat back into the city for their long-awaited rest. Their movements smooth and quick as the wall restored its shape. Then the entire phalanx marched forward, the sound of their footsteps and armor echoing through the plains.</p><p>So that was how the wall maintained its position. Ingenious. She'd better get going. She would need her rest for tomorrow. She tiptoed to the very tip of the branch, calculating the distance she'd have to clear with her jump.</p><p>A couple of meters at most. Easy enough.</p><p>Before she had any time to second guess herself, she once again took a running start and leapt off the branch, soaring through the air—</p><p>She had underestimated the distance or perhaps, overestimated her abilities, because her legs were about to come crashing into the spikes, and there was nothing she could do about it.</p><p>She closed her eyes and tucked in her legs, praying that whatever injuries she'd sustain would not affect her chances tomorrow. Why had she been so foolish?</p><p>The impact never came. Her eyes shot open to find that she was hurtling straight for the ground. She steadied herself and dropped into a roll, avoiding any injuries save for the soreness of her knees.</p><p>She'd made it somehow. Thalia hadn't realised how hard her heart had been pounding. This feeling…it was panic. She had been so close to throwing away years of training. There were no second chances when it came to the Agoge. She gathered her wits, and brushed her cloak of stray leaves and branches while simultaneously brushing away that unimaginable scenario.</p><p>Thalia knew where she wanted to go. There were only two ways to truly experience the city's night life. The market or the taverns. And Thalia had no interest whatsoever in alcohol.</p><p>So, to the marketplace it was. A long passageway lined with stalls on either side, located at the center of Sparta's Agora. As she got closer, the deafening murmur of people bargaining over wares mixed in with the occasional sound of musical instruments filled her ears. And then came the smell—mostly pleasant. The smell of freshly-baked food and blooming flowers and so much more. Only slightly ruined by the sour and musky smell of sweat. A by-product of the sheer volume of people. It didn't bother her though. It was a smell she was too accustomed to.</p><p>Thalia pushed through the crowd and emerged into the clothing section. Her eyes immediately drifting to a stall with the most beautiful array of dresses on display—all in her favourite colour. Every shade of blue she had ever seen, perhaps more. She approached the stall, picking out a few of the darker dresses and holding them against herself.</p><p>"Can I help you?" the head of an old lady popped up from behind the stall. "Those dresses look beautiful on you. Look, they even match your eyes!" she clapped in joy.</p><p>Thalia's cheek warmed at the compliment. She'd never thought she was beautiful, especially not in a dress.</p><p>Of course, she was once again being the fool. The lady had clearly said it to get her to buy the dress. Nothing more than cold hard business. She returned the dresses to where they belonged—not on her—and smiled politely before excusing herself.</p><p>She hastened her pace and moved into the jewelry section. At least here she could indulge herself. Even warriors wore jewelry sometimes. And it wasn't any old jewelry that was being sold here. No—they were artifacts and trinkets from all over Greece—most possessing magical properties—if the stories that accompanied them were to be believed.</p><p>It was one stall in particular that caught her attention, gleaming in the golden light. Even more so than the stall of dresses. This one seemed to call to her. To drag her feet forward without her doing. Her eyes landed on a necklace. A chain forged from interwoven strands of gold, its centerpiece a large gemstone in the color of her cloak. Hanging beneath it, a silver medallion etched with the likeness of an olive tree.</p><p>"Ahh… yes," said the man who owned the stall. "Every piece has a story. None more interesting than this."</p><p>He probably said the same about every piece he owned.</p><p>"That right there, belonged to a priestess of Athena. Not any priestess. The high priestess of Athens herself. It is said to grant endless wisdom to the wearer. Go ahead—try it on." the man urged.</p><p>Thalia picked it up, that strange feeling still in her chest. A siren's song of sorts. She could not deny its beauty. "How much?"</p><p>"A hundred Drachmas," he replied. "No more, no less".</p><p>
  <em>And reality hits.</em>
</p><p>She could not afford it. Not now, not ever.</p><p>Thalia was ripped from her thoughts by a tingling feeling at the nape of her neck. As if she were being watched…perhaps followed. She stole a quick glance, but the crowd was too thick for her to pinpoint the source of her discomfort. From here, everyone looked suspicious.</p><p>She was becoming paranoid. There was nothing to be afraid of. Still, she returned the necklace and hurried along.</p><p>Next came the food section. Gods it smelt good.</p><p>One treat wouldn't hurt, she supposed. She approached the nearest stall and bought herself a <em>Bougatsa</em>. A rectangular shaped custard pie—emphasis on the custard. For when she bit into it, the sweet cream burst into her mouth with a whole host of other ingredients, forming and amalgamation of flavor that left her salivating for more. It was the best thing she'd ever tasted—</p><p>There it was again. That feeling. That sense of foreboding. This time heavier—more sinister.</p><p>So, this time she trusted her instincts and bolted towards the weapons section, parting the crowd as she went.</p><p>It was far emptier than the food section. Perhaps because every able-bodied or at least willing fighter had been deployed. Here, Thalia could actually breathe and get a hold of herself.</p><p>The feeling intensified, as if the very air was filled with…<em>death</em>.</p><p>She knew she wasn't the only one who felt it. One by one, people were scrambling away from the market in a frenzy. By the time she arrived at a bowyer, most of the market was empty. Only a few stubborn vendors stuck around, unwilling to abandon their goods.</p><p>"I need a bow <em>now</em>!" Thalia ordered the small man who owned the stall.</p><p>"No money," the vendor replied defiantly. "No bow."</p><p>"This is not the time for games," Thalia growled, slamming her fist against the countertop.</p><p>The man's expression turned to one of terror. "Ta-take it," he stammered before turning and bolting.</p><p>Thalia grabbed the nearest bow along with a handful of arrows. Shoddy workmanship, but it'll have to do. Not the professionally crafted recurve bows she was so used to, with their superior strength and accuracy.</p><p>A low growl. Not one of hers. She whirled around, straight into a wall of darkness. No—a wall of fur. A giant hound the size of three horses.</p><p><em>Oh</em>. This was what the man had been so afraid of. Thalia fired an arrow and watched it sail above her target.</p><p><em>Stupid bow</em>.</p><p>The hound, angered by her attack, charged towards her, closing the distance. Realising she had no time to fire another arrow, Thalia leapt aside. As she fell, a figure barreled into the hound, knocking it into a neighboring stall.</p><p>The stall shattered; a whole host of weapons clattering atop the hound and to the ground. Somehow, the hound survived it. It swayed back to its feet, shaking its head slowly. At least it was battered from the experience. Thalia took aim, held her breath and fired another arrow—this time hitting her mark right between its eyes. The creature collapsed, the life in its eyes extinguished.</p><p>The figure that had appeared earlier, rose to his feet.</p><p>"Cyril!" Thalia exclaimed. "You were <em>following</em> me. I can't believe it. I thought you trusted me."</p><p>Cyril stepped past her, ignoring her complaints. He picked up a sword from the broken stall. "We have to go now. It was foolish of me to let you out of my sight. I thought you'd be safe—the shield wall was standing strong…" he rambled on.</p><p>"Cyril," A hand on his shoulder. "Cyril," she repeated shaking him out of his stupor. "What was that thing?"</p><p>"Hellhound," he breathed. "Dangerous creatures. They bring death with em. Rarely spotted on the surface world. Very strange indeed." He marched onward gesturing for her to keep up. "There will be more—they travel in packs. Hurry! They have the ability to travel through shadows; which is dangerous seeing that it's dark and the moon is out."</p><p>Thalia sped up, trying to keep pace with Cyril's long strides. For a time, they walked in silence. She followed obediently, knowing the gravity of the situation. It was when they parted the shield wall and left Sparta that she lost patience.</p><p>"Where are we going?" she asked, trying to gain his attention. He ignored her and increased his pace. "Cyril… <em>please</em>".</p><p>Still moving, he shot her a weary glance. "I never thought this day would come. Your father asked me to keep you away for as long as possible."</p><p>"My father?" She stepped in his way; confronting him. "You knew my father?" she held his gaze.</p><p>"No," he said with a pained look. "I only received a letter when you arrived at my doorstep. Besides, that's not the point. You're in danger. There's only one place that's safe for you."</p><p>"Where?" Thalia challenged, still barring the path forward. "Where would I be safer than in Sparta—than with you?"</p><p>"There is a city, Hemitheopolis, for those like you."</p><p>"What the hell do you mean by that?" She said, losing her patience.</p><p>Again, that weary glance. It almost looked as if he were afraid. He'd never shown anything like it before.</p><p>Suddenly, she heard what sounded like panting. Before she could even react, Cyril had grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to his side.</p><p>"They're here." He pointed at the creature that had appeared through the shadows. "Whatever you do, stay behind me." Thalia was about to protest but the fear in his eyes stopped her. "Cover me with your bow."</p><p>Thalia nodded.</p><p>He rushed the creature and she fired an arrow that pierced its flank. It's howl of pain interrupted by an advancing Cyril.</p><p>Thalia nocked another arrow and was about to fire it when she was thrown aside—</p><p>She rolled off her back and found herself below another hellhound, its claws aimed at her throat, blood-red eyes staring into hers, bared fangs dripping saliva—blinding her.</p><p>This was it. The end—</p><p>The weight pinning her down vanished, followed by a loud thud. Using her now free hands, she wiped the layer of saliva and blinked her eyes open.</p><p>Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest at what she saw. She was face-to-face with the creature, only and inch separating them. And only the sight of the blade buried through its skull, calmed her raging heart.</p><p>The calm, though, did not last for more than a heartbeat. The blade was the one Cyril had picked out. Which meant he had thrown it to save her.</p><p>She scanned the horizon, eyes still stinging from the saliva.</p><p>There—Cyril was standing up to hellhound—alone and weaponless.</p><p>Thalia reached blindly for her bow, her fingers wrapping around a broken shaft.</p><p>
  <em>Shit, shit, shit.</em>
</p><p>Cyril was still going strong, dodging and weaving through the creature's swipes, who still bled from the arrow in its side.</p><p>Thalia once again found herself looking at the blade. It was the only weapon in sight. She climbed up the dead hound's stomach, gripping fistfuls of its fur for leverage. Once atop it, she dug in her heels and pulled at the sword with all her strength…</p><p>The blade came free, singing as it sliced through flesh and bone. The momentum and lack of balance sent her tumbling of the creature. Her head and shoulders ached from the impact, but that didn't stop her. Not when Cyril's life was in danger.</p><p>She spun to her feet, ready to run to him.</p><p>But this time her heart did leap out of her chest as the hellhound caught Cyril in the chest with a wild swipe. He flew through the air and crashed into a tree.</p><p><em>Shit. </em>It couldn't be. He had to be okay—he had to. She had to get to him.</p><p>Thalia's adrenaline took over as she let out a battle cry and charged the creature.</p><p>The hellhound turned its attention on her and bounded towards her with such intensity that chunks of dirt flew up behind it. She didn't slow down. Just as the hellhound was about to come crashing into her with the full force of a battering ram, she slid under it with a raised blade, slicing its entire underbelly in half.</p><p>Thalia emerged on the other side covered in blood—her target eliminated. Without even a single look back, she rushed over to where Cyril had landed. The tightness in her chest eased when she saw his move up and down.</p><p>He was still alive. A closer look brought back that tightness. His entire front was drenched in blood and he was struggling to keep his eyes open, let alone breathe.</p><p>A twitch of his fingers. "Thalia." A mere whisper.</p><p>She knelt beside him, cheeks damp from trying to blink away her tears. She needed to keep a clear head if she were to bring him back to the city for healing. She moved to lift him—</p><p>"Thalia, don't." His voice firmer this time. "You have to leave."</p><p>"I c-can't," a choked sob.</p><p>"Travel to Corinth. From there, sail across the Corinthian Gulf. Find Hemitheopolis. You will be safe there." Cyril coughed out blood. Thalia cradled his head in her lap.</p><p>"Don't leave me…please. I don't know how to go on. To live without you." She begged. "I love you" she cried, stroking the back of his head. If it truly was the end, perhaps she could return this small comfort he had offered her for all those years.</p><p>"I love you too," Cyril whispered. "The day you arrived, was the happiest of my life. You were like a daughter to me. You were so much more. You filled a hole in my heart. Your father would be proud of the woman you have grown into." he said; a glint in his eyes.</p><p>"My <em>real </em>father is," she said, pressing her lips to his forehead.</p><p>She held the kiss for only a moment but it felt like forever. He placed something in her hand—something cold to the touch and she heard him whisper "Happy birthday, my girl."</p><p>Cyril went limp in her arms, his hands slipping out of hers. She opened her palm and there it was. His final gift to her. The necklace that had caught her attention earlier—the necklace of Athena.</p><p>Thalia pulled her cloak further over her shoulders, embracing it—embracing herself—and burst into uncontrollable sobs.</p><p>The necklace in her hand and the cloak on her back. His first and final gift. That was all that was left of him.</p><hr/><p>Edited 29th Apr 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Do you guys like the way I write Thalia?</strong>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Titans of War</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks for the continued support. This one is another villain chapter. (Sorry about that) It’s short though. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. Chapter 8 should be up in a couple days. And then Chapter 9 has a surprise I think you’ll enjoy.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Triptolemus</p><p><em>“</em>This feels wrong<em>,” </em>said Triptolemus. Mynesmone was pacing back and forth, gliding across the temple floor. She was not really there, a wraith conjured up in his mind. A figment of their mind meld.</p><p>“This is wrong. They had no part to play in mother’s demise.” He focused his gaze on her face, sick of looking at that dress that only reminded him of all the pain...</p><p>“I know brother—I know. But we will never defeat the gods if we do not wipe out their champions first. There were others—more powerful than even you and I, who have been thwarted by them before.”</p><p>Images of a serpent, so pale and white and large it blotted out the sun. It was as if he was seeing through the eyes of a hundred warriors all at once—all paralysed at the sight of the creature before them.</p><p>Then came a burning, bronze legion, spearing through the darkness and into those white scales. What little light left in the world, reflecting off them and their weapons. Not unyielding yet relentless. Even when droves of them fell, they never faltered. Hundreds that burned with the strength of thousands. Warriors—all of them.</p><p>“Do it for Mother,” Mynesmone insisted. “Do it for her.”</p><p>“For Mother,” he replied. He would accept it. This corruption of his honor. For her, he’d do whatever was necessary. There was no price too high.</p><p>“I have been gathering intel for years,” Mynesmone continued with that beautiful ageless voice of hers that reminded him of his mother. Every intonation, every tone, exactly like hers had been. Soft but powerful, loving but with a promise of death—a swift one for each and every being that dared cross her.</p><p> “Mortals are weak. It is easy to worm my way through their minds, through every crevice and every memory. But mortals do not have the information we need.”</p><p>“And what is that?” Triptolemus asked, drumming his fingertips on his throne—his mother’s throne. Or perhaps his brother’s.</p><p>He hated it. This temple turned fortress.</p><p>A gift from his mother, apparently. Or a shrine to his memory. Still, he hated it.</p><p>Despite the love he had for her and the love she had for him; this was never a happy place. She called it his sanctuary. He called it his prison. Years of training; heaps and heaps of rock and mud that had fallen at his hands.</p><p>“To what end?” He used to ask her.</p><p>She never did have an answer.</p><p>Apparently, it was <em>to his end</em>.</p><p>A mockery. That was what this place was. <em>A god-damned mockery </em>for everything his life had been. It was on these very stones he’d fought his father to the death for being different—a Titan. Yet, after killing him, the Primordials stepped back. They accepted the Titans as the new race of immortals and turned this place into their stronghold.</p><p>Why would she ever think this a gift? Surely, she’d seen the irony of it all. And why hadn’t the Primordials seen it earlier? That he’d never meant any harm or ill-will to the them. He had always shown them respect and had asked nothing more than to have a place amongst them. To be accepted. To be loved.</p><p>Mynesmone’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. For a moment, he had almost thought it was his mother calling him. “The location of Hemitheopolis, and how to get past their magical defenses.”</p><p>“You mean to tell me we do not know its location. Are you sending me on a fool’s errand, sister?”</p><p>“It is a well-kept secret.”</p><p>“Even from you?” he mused.</p><p>“Even from me,” she said impatiently. “The city cannot be seen from the outside. Not unless the blood of Olympus flows through your veins.”</p><p>It still did not sit right with him. Killing the children of the gods for something they hadn’t done. A story that rang too true to his own. But he remembered what Mynesmone had shown him.</p><p>The sorrow in his mother’s eyes as she realised that her attempt to avenge her children had failed. The same one written across her features the last time he’d seen her—the last time she’d seen him.</p><p>No, they’d find each other again. She was a primordial. One day she’d return. It might take millennia more, perhaps eons. The world might end and be reborn a thousand times and still she’d return. There was a comfort in that. A strength. He’d do anything…kill anything to survive till then. To be there on that blessed day. To see her and hold her and tell her he was sorry…that he loved her.</p><p>“Triptolemus…your mind wanders.”</p><p>Could she read his every thought? Was this what he had signed up for. Then again, it hadn’t really been much of a choice.</p><p>“Where were we?” He asked, slightly embarrassed, trying to shield his mind from hers. He could’ve have sworn her image flickered and that sudden fear of losing the one person who seemed to care for him too brought down his walls.</p><p>“Hemitheopolis,” she continued, making no comment on what he’d just done or tried to do. He was not used to this…this patience. “There is good news on that front, courtesy of a Theban soldier.”</p><p>Another thing he’d have to get used to. The kingdoms of man. A strange thing, mortals roaming the earth. Even stranger, mortals that had been modeled after the gods, old and new. Mortals that roamed the land and ruled it as if they were kings. As if they had any power other than that of their short miserable lives.</p><p>“His memories revealed that Thebes has sent word for Hemitheopolis, requesting assistance. This is it, our chance to learn the secrets of the Demigod City.”</p><p>“What are we waiting for?” Triptolemus asked, rising from his throne.</p><p>“Be patient, brother. The time to reveal our hand has not yet arrived. Let us keep our cards close. The less the outside world knows about us, the higher our chance of success.”</p><p>“Do not speak of chance. We will succeed. We have to.”</p><p>Pressed lips and a determined nod. “Keep that belief Triptolemus. Keep it close and do not let it fade. And when the time comes, and believe me that time is soon…unleash it against whatever it is that stands in our way.”</p><p>“Have you located the twins?” Triptolemus asked, brandishing his new blade, still not quite used to the primordial energy that brimmed within it.</p><p>“I have, and you will be glad to know that the house has recharged. They’re on their way as we speak.”</p><p>An onyx portal materialized in the air, right above a now flickering Mynesmone. It fizzled with energy and darkness. An eternal darkness. One so deep and old and ancient, like the void his mother had mentioned—Chaos.</p><p>Night had fallen. Not a natural one but night nonetheless, the portal consuming all light in the vicinity—</p><p>A pair of heavy thuds echoed through the marble chamber—</p><p>Light burst back into the world as the portal vanished, leaving no trace, as if it had never existed in the first place. As if it had not broken the laws of nature and brought back those from the pit.</p><p>Two Titans stood before him, dressed in armor like him and nearly as tall. They stared at him with fierce determination, those deep obsidian eyes swirling with emotion—almost like portals of their own.</p><p>Triptolemus smiled.</p><p>They had something to prove, were not powerful enough to challenge him and most importantly, not loyal enough to resist his offer. They were perfect.</p><p>“Ah! My generals have arrived.”</p><p>“Who are you?” one Titan narrowed his eyes.</p><p>“The better question would be…who do you want to be?” Triptolemus smiled again. Silence followed. “You are Pallas and Perses, are you not? Titan of Battle and Titan of Destruction. That should mean something. It should inspire fear in your enemies. Do you see me trembling?”</p><p>“Our loyalty is to Kronos,” said Pallas. He was the picture of calm, opposite to that of his brother.”</p><p>“Oh,” Triptolemus drawled out the note. “Is that so?”</p><p>“Are you questioning our loyalty?” Perses stepped forward, as if to challenge him, still seething from his earlier comments.</p><p>Within a heartbeat, Triptolemus’s blade was pressed against his neck. “I do not question your loyalty <em>boy</em>. I am only confirming what I suspected. That the two of you are smarter than this<em>.</em>”</p><p>Triptolemus pulled back his blade and splayed his arms. “Do you not see the opportunity at play? This is our chance to avenge the Titans, to avenge Gaea. Your names will be remembered. Isn’t that what you want? Aren’t you tired of being forgotten? Because <em>I</em> am."</p><p>“We apologise my lord,” Pallas was there, pulling his brother back in fear for his life. “My brother was only defending his honor. The question still remains. Who are you?”</p><p>“You see what I mean? Forgotten!” He spat out bitterly. “I am Triptolemus, the first Titan. And I am here with one purpose and one purpose only. To bring about the end of the gods, the end of their cursed reign. So, I ask you this now. Will you stand with me or against?”</p><p>The twin Titans knelt with heads hung low. Perses though, gave him a defiant glare before doing so. So much untamed wildness. It reminded him of himself all those years ago.</p><p>“I, Pallas.”</p><p>“And I <em>Lord</em> Perses,” Triptolemus scoffed at the self-proclaimed title.</p><p>“Henceforth pledge our loyalty to you, Triptolemus, the first Titan,” they finished in unison.</p><p>“Rise my <em>lords</em>,” Triptolemus smirked at them as they met his gaze. “We have work to do.”</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>I hope the plot makes sense haha</strong>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Beauty In Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks for the continued support. The response has been far greater than I had expected. </p><p>I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. More to come soon.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Annabeth</p><p>Annabeth was stuffing supplies into her satchel when she heard a knock on her window. It was Chloe, rocking back and forth on her heels and chewing her lower lip. She'd expected Chloe to be overjoyed after last night, not worried. But then again, Damian had been awfully quiet at the library.</p><p>Annabeth signaled to meet out front and double-checked the contents of her satchel. This was her first real quest. And if anything were to go wrong it better damn well not be due to a lack of preparation. That she would not accept or forgive.</p><p>A quick prayer later, she found Chloe at the foot of the stairs, still looking unsettled. Annabeth flew down the stairs and pulled Chloe into her arms. She did not protest.</p><p>"What's this for?" Annabeth could almost <em>hear</em> her smile. Good. They would always be there for each other. It was their silent vow.</p><p>"Can't I hold you just for the sake of it." Annabeth's tone playful.</p><p>"You're worried about me, aren't you?" Chloe raised her brows as she pulled back. "It should be me who's worried."</p><p>"I'd agree if you weren't acting strange. What's wrong?" Annabeth's question gentle, like her voice.</p><p>"Nothing,"</p><p>It was Annabeth's turn to raise her brows. "You're not fooling me."</p><p>Chloe let out a tired sigh. She'd been overworking herself, more so than usual. It was a wonder that she herself had not wound up in the infirmary. Annabeth would have advised her to rest if she hadn't known that it would have fallen on deaf ears.</p><p>"It's just that…" Chloe's voice trailed off.</p><p>"It's just that what?"</p><p>"Damian," Annabeth stole a glimpse at Chloe's hands. Her fingers were bare—<em>that oaf.</em> She'd give him a piece of her mind alright.</p><p>"What about him?" she asked innocently.</p><p>"He was acting strange. And no, not like I am now. Whatever it is that was on his mind was far deeper than worry. I'd never seen him like that before. He lied to me, Annabeth." Chloe's voice carrying just a tinge of hurt.</p><p>Annabeth would make Damian pay for putting her into this situation. For putting Chloe into this situation as well.</p><p>"He was just worried about leaving you behind." Annabeth said with full confidence, though it was guilt that filled her. Guilt for lying to her and guilt for separating them. "Worried you'd overwork yourself without him there to stop you. You know how you can be sometimes."</p><p>"Oh my god, you're right."</p><p>"I am?"</p><p>"Gosh, I've been so selfish. He's the one who's going to put his life on the line, not me, and here I am making everything revolve around me."</p><p>Not the point Annabeth had tried to subtly get across to her friend. <em>Selfish. </em>More like the exact opposite.</p><p>With that issue resolved, they made their way to the stables, where they had agreed to meet. They walked quietly for a time, consumed by their own thoughts.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Annabeth eyed Chloe wearily.</p><p>"For?" Chloe asked turning to her.</p><p>"I know how much you wanted to go on the quest with him. It was typical of me really. I was <em>so</em> absorbed in the planning of it all, I immediately volunteered myself without considering the repercussions-" Annabeth would've have rambled on if she hadn't been interrupted.</p><p>"Annabeth,"</p><p>"Yes?" she asked, catching a breath.</p><p>"Stop. There is nothing to forgive." Chloe insisted. "You couldn't have known that Damian and I would have volunteered too."</p><p>"That's a lie and you know it." Annabeth gave Chloe a knowing smile. "When has Damian ever not nominated himself for a task. And when have you ever not followed his lead."</p><p>"He is quite brave, isn't he?" Chloe's cheeks reddened and her eyes had a faraway look to them.</p><p>"I get it. You're in <em>loveee." </em>Annabeth teased, eliciting a bout of nervous laughter on Chloe's part.</p><p>They arrived at the stables. A racetrack carved into the earth lay in front of the large wooden barn. It was painted teal, like the sea and drawn upon one side was a mural depicting the creation of horses. Poseidon arms raised, trident glowing, a tidal wave morphing into a row of horses.</p><p>Annabeth tugged at the heavy metal rings and pulled the double-doors ajar, the wood groaning. Shortly after, her ears were filled with a chorus of whinnies. The horses weren't too pleased—it had been weeks since some of them were last set free. They were used to the rigorous schedule of monthly chariot and horse races; the exercise and freedom having kept them strong and healthy.</p><p>Alas, the state of the country forced the Aeropagus to call off the races. All resources were redirected to keeping the city safe and preparing for imminent war. Against what she did not know. But after all, that was the point of her quest—to learn what the darkness that crept over this land was.</p><p>Annabeth walked up and down the stables scrutinizing every mare. If they were to succeed, they would require the finest of the bunch. There was no telling what awaited them in the forest. Years had passed since anyone had tried crossing through it</p><p>Moments later, Annabeth and Chloe held three horses between them by the reigns. Beautiful creatures they were.</p><p>As they left the stables, they spotted a figure plodding towards them. He was fumbling with his satchel, still stuffing items into it. She'd recognise that gait anywhere.</p><p>"Look who's finally decided to show up." Annabeth mused.</p><p>"It's not like him to be late." Chloe said. "Something is bothering him. I know it." Chloe reached for her hand and squeezed it; eyes dark with worry. "Promise me," she squeezed harder. "Promise me you'll keep an eye out for him. I hate the thought of him going into battle distracted."</p><p>"I always have."</p><p>"You're right-"</p><p>"But I'll do everything in my power. You have my word"</p><p>"What are you girls talking about?" Damian asked by way of greeting—slinging his satchel over his shoulder. He was looking at Chloe as if it was the first time he was seeing her. What a nervous wreck.</p><p>Annabeth would have glared at him, but he was paying her no heed. She'd wait till they were alone. An awkward silence passed as the two stared at each other, both lips moving, trying to form the words their hearts sang.</p><p>"We have our horses." Annabeth said, breaking the tension. "Let's ride on. The farewell party should already be gathered at the Northern Gate."</p><p>They climbed onto their horses.</p><p>"Anybody up for a race?" Damian challenged.</p><p>"Oh, it's on." Annabeth replied. "We'll hug the coast and then turn towards the gate."</p><p>"Agreed," Chloe smiled.</p><p>At the count of three, they urged their horses into a gallop. Chloe, being the lightest, had the advantage, especially since these horses were bred for pulling chariots. She leaned her lithe figure forward, chest pressed against her mare's mane and shot forward, sending sand flying their way.</p><p>Damian and Annabeth did the same, slowly gaining back the ground they had lost.</p><p>As they turned along the coast, Annabeth pulled ahead, her curls billowing behind her, threatening to escape her ponytail. She could not hide the grin that found its way on her lips. It was everything she loved: riding, the sea, spending time with her friends and winning.</p><p>Gods it felt good to win. She had almost forgotten the feeling from sparring almost exclusively against Damian for the past month. However, the only way to get better was to challenge the best. Hell, she was ready to spar against Thaddeus when he got back.</p><p>Annabeth threw back her head, enjoying the feel of the wind blowing through her hair. The weather was perfect. Perhaps the gods had blessed their quest.</p><p>They were fast approaching the Necropolis—where all fallen Hemitheopolians were buried. At least those whose bodies were brought back. She shot past the Temple of Hades built just beside it and lost control of her mount as it went into a frenzy.</p><p>Had it not been for her years of training, Annabeth might have broken her neck. She landed in a roll and caught the horse by the reigns. She approached the creature carefully, its eyes wide as it retreated.</p><p>"It's okay." Annabeth whispered, patting its muzzle. "Shhh. It's okay. We all fear death." She knew she did. Even the thought of the word brought too many images to mind.</p><p>"You alright?" Damian asked, riding up next to her, struggling to keep control of his horse, who too was acting up.</p><p>"I'm good," Annabeth nodded, as she got back into her saddle. "Where's Chloe?"</p><p>"Over there," he pointed forward—squinting his eyes.</p><p>Somehow or rather, Chloe's horse had not been affected. Perhaps her calming aura worked on animals too.</p><p>"Let's get on then!" she urged her horse forward, Damian following close behind.</p><p>They arrived to find that Chloe had parted the crowd which had gathered to send them off. She was handing the reigns of her horse over to Dorian—Hector beside them holding the scepter of the Archon Proper, silver crown atop his head. A rare sight reserved for official events.</p><p>Annabeth slid off her horse, ready to take her place beside them when a blur rushed past her—it was Damian. He lifted Chloe by the waist and spun her around, holding on tight.</p><p>"You won!" he smiled, gently lowering her to her feet. Chloe was trying her best to contain her laughter.</p><p>"What-"</p><p>He interrupted her question with a kiss, pulling her into his arms, melting into her lips.</p><p>Of all things, Annabeth never saw that coming. They had never even kissed in front of her. It lasted longer than Annabeth expected—longer than anyone expected. An awkward silence followed when their lips finally parted. They were both breathless.</p><p>"Quest members," Hector broke the silence with an amused smile. "Take your places."</p><p>Chloe, still flustered, rushed over to Annabeth, and nudged her forward while whispering, "Good luck."</p><p>Annabeth joined Damian and Dorian at the center of the crowd—only now realizing how large it was. The people must have known the significance of this quest. It could signal the end of these trying times, bringing back the age of peace that preceded it. The hope she saw on all those faces fueled her with renewed belief. Things would get better—and if she were to push her luck—all the pieces of the puzzle would fall into place.</p><p>"We are gathered here today to bless this quest. To lend them our strength. Let us pray that it will be a fruitful one…" Hector paused for dramatic effect. "And a safe one. They carry the hopes of our people—our nation."</p><p>Annabeth knelt first, followed by Dorian and Damian. Hector took his place in front of her and tapped either shoulder with his scepter, muttering under his breath. An ancient blessing, dating back to the creation of Hemitheopolis. He continued down the line, repeating it on the other two.</p><p>"Arise," Hector ordered, firm but not unkind.</p><p>The crowd begin to chant, "Speech! Speech! Speech!"</p><p>Dorian silenced the crowd with a wave of his arms. "If it's a speech you want, it's a speech you'll get." The declaration was met with an uproar. "But not from me. Let us perk our ears up for the one and only…" Dorian dragged Damian forward. "Our prodigal son."</p><p>The crowd burst into cheers, all eyes landing on him. Damian straightened his posture, his features hardening. There it was again—the other side of Damian—the born leader. Someone who could inspire the people. He took one step forward, making it look like the sun itself was his crown.</p><p>"<em>Hemitheopolis</em> will not fall! <em>Greece</em> will not fall! Our brothers and sisters are out there… all of them ready to lay their lives on the line. They have answered the call. Now it's <em>our</em> turn. Enough playing defence…" Damian raised his sword-arm and pointed it towards the gates, "Today we take the fight to them!"</p><p>This was of course followed by a series of wild cheers.</p><p>At Hector's signal, the crowd formed a queue and walked past the quest members as custom bid. Some gave blessings, others offered well-wishes. Hector was last in line, shaking her hand and pulling her close. "You have always been one of the brightest. It is why I elected you when you were still so young. Take care of my son, will you?"</p><p>"I will." It was the second time she'd been asked to look out for Damian. She did not know if it was pride or jealousy that filled her. She hoped it was the former.</p><p>Hector moved to Dorian then, both trying to keep their faces straight. An inside joke shared by old friends. Finally, he stopped at Damian. Instead of clasping hands, Hector pulled him into a strong embrace.</p><p>"You have made me proud, son. You have made us all proud." Hector turned to the crowd, who responded in a series of nods.</p><p>Annabeth could see tentative smile on Damian's lips. A nervous one. A confused one. He was not used to being showered with affection from his father. Hector was always too busy being Archon and because of it, they had never been very close.</p><p>"Of course, I would be prouder if you picked a more suitable weapon," Hector joked. "A descendant of Apollo wielding a blade. I wonder what the Lord of Archery would say about that." he joked.</p><p>"I'm good, aren't I?" Damian challenged half seriously.</p><p>"The best, my boy." Hector replied. "Now go… time waits for no demigod."</p><p>They mounted their horses and waved their goodbyes as Hector signaled the guards with his scepter. The guards turned the giant wheel which opened the Northern Gates—a set of giant golden doors emblazoned with the symbol of Hemitheopolis. The letter "H" surrounded by the symbols of the Olympian gods. As the doors swung open, the air shimmered with colour and a blast of wind shot outwards. The magical barrier of Hemitheopolis momentarily deactivating.</p><p>"Ride on… don't look back," Hector instructed. "For Hemitheopolis!". The crowd echoed his chant as the quest members rode off with singular focus.</p><hr/><p>Annabeth rode at the front of the party, beside Dorian. Damian brought up the rear. They had been in the forest for the better part of the day. It had been quiet so far…too quiet. The last hour or so had been difficult, having to slow down due to the thick underbrush. The darkness didn't help—only the rare beam of sunlight sneaking through the densely-packed oak trees.</p><p>Annabeth had given him enough time to sort his thoughts. Now she'd confront him. She slowed her pace, so that he'd catch up to her.</p><p>"What's wrong?" Damian asked. "Go ahead I'll be right behind you guys."</p><p>She shot him a glare and shoved his shoulder, nearly sending him flying off his horse.</p><p>"Hey!" Damian yelped. "What was that for? What's wrong-"</p><p>"What's <em>wrong</em>? You're what's wrong." Annabeth scolded, maintaining her glare. "What has gotten into you? I saw Chloe's hands. Why are they still bare Damian?" she continued leaving him no time to explain.</p><p>She had never seen him look so crushed as when he apologised. Those blue eyes heavy with defeat.</p><p>"You should be apologizing to Chloe. Not me." Annabeth advised. "She deserves better… you of all people should know that."</p><p>"I do—I know. It's just…" Damian seemed to hesitate, as if the next words were poison to him. "I'm scared, Annabeth."</p><p>"You didn't seem scared when you pulled her into your arms and kissed her in front of the entire city." Perhaps she was being harsh. But he had to hear the truth. "It's not fair to her—sending mixed signals. She has enough to deal with as it is."</p><p>"You're right. I was caught in the moment." Damian said, looking more crushed than before. Gods help her.</p><p>"When am I not?" She said smugly, trying to elicit any reaction that wasn't a pout. Nothing.</p><p>"It's not that I'm afraid of loving her. It's that I'm afraid of losing her. And I know how stupid that sounds."</p><p>"Very stupid," Annabeth agreed. "But it's also very sweet. Yet if you choose not to love, you have already lost. There's no changing how you feel about her."</p><p>"This life," Damian's voice cracked. "It isn't cut out for love. We demigods drop like flies—that's not even taking into account our average lifespan. We've seen it time and time again."</p><p>Annabeth heard it then. The despair in his voice. The desperate cry. He was speaking from experience.</p><p>She knew the stories. Of the dark period after the Battle of Corinth. How Hemitheopolis had needed rebuilding. Not the city but its people—its spirit. Being one of the few survivors and leaders that had survived, Hector had been elected Archon. But he had not taken the death of his wife—Damian's mother—well.</p><p>He'd holed himself in the throne room, refusing to speak to anyone for months, to lead his people, to face his home and the son within it—a broken shell of a once great man.</p><p>It must have been hard for Damian, losing both his parents in such a short span of time. He'd barely been two years old. The world would have been a dark and lonely place. Terrifyingly so. Annabeth only knew it too well. But at least she had Chloe when she had lost her world.</p><p>Annabeth took a deep breath and found the words he needed to hear. "Like many things in this life, death is certain. Love is not. Do not throw it away."</p><p>"Even if I was brave enough to face the loss, you know Chloe." His eyes lighting up at the thought of her. "No one loves like she does—No one. How can I ever let this thing between us solidify? I am not willing to inflict upon her that kind of pain. What if I die-"</p><p>"You won't," Annabeth insisted, grabbing hold of his hand, forcing him to hold her gaze. "I promised Chloe I'll bring you home safe. So that's what I'm gonna do for however long you need me."</p><p>"I know you'll be there for me. You always have. But what if-"</p><p>"Damian," Annabeth warned. "We do not deal in <em>ifs</em>. That is not where the beauty in life lies. And you speak of how Chloe loves. The undying strength of it. That is exactly why you must cherish her. She has already fallen for you as you have for her. Married or not, she will never love anyone as she does you. And no matter what happens she will feel your loss like part of her soul."</p><p><em>Oh.</em> She had gone on one of her rambles, hadn't she?</p><p>Damian stared at her in disbelief. To be fair, that was a lot of information to digest. "You really think so?" he asked.</p><p>"Of course, you idiot." Annabeth joked. "Have I ever said anything that isn't the truth."</p><p>He tilted his head to the sky, hands fiddling with the ring in his pocket, as he took in a deep breath. One, then two then three.</p><p>He turned back to her; a hopeful smile plastered on his face. It may have been tentative. But she'd take it over his pouts any day. "Alright…I'll propose to her when we're back from the quest. If we succ-"</p><p>"<em>When </em>we succeed." Annabeth corrected.</p><p>"When we succeed, everything will go back to normal. Bye-bye doomsday and hello age of peace"</p><p>"That's the spirit." Annabeth felt something large slam into her, throwing her off her horse and out of consciousness…</p><hr/><p>Damian</p><p>Damian thought he'd heard the rustling of leaves.</p><p>
  <em>Idiot.</em>
</p><p>He should have been more aware of his surroundings. Now Annabeth was hurt, her limp body at the feet of a…</p><p>He did not know what it is he was looking at. Twice his height and vaguely humanoid, it almost reminded him of a gorilla, but not as hairy and far more muscular. Its limbs as thick as tree trunks.</p><p>Soon enough, Damian and Dorian too found themselves on the ground, their horses having fled in panic. Damian rolled and watched as the creature raised a club, ready to crush Annabeth. His heart dropped, along with whatever hope that had filled him from her words.</p><p>There was no stopping it. He hadn't even gotten to his feet—</p><p>The creature froze, large brown eyes turning a milky-white. Slowly, it lowered its arms and chucked aside its weapon. Damian ran towards her.</p><p>She would survive. Thank the—</p><p>The creature shot forward abruptly, both hands grabbing the sides of her head, lifting her. She was so small compared to it—so delicate. He needed to get to her, even if it meant scaling the creature.</p><p>Annabeth screamed. Strange seeing that she had been knocked out cold. She screamed again. A horrible sound that tore into him—into his will. Her eyes shot open, no longer the grey he knew so well but the white of the creature.</p><p>Before Damian's blade sank into the creature's flesh, Dorian was already there, axe slicing through the creature's knee. Not a clean cut but enough to send it crashing down and releasing Annabeth.</p><p>Damian slid to his knees and caught her before she hit her head. Too close—it had been too close. But she was still alive. He could feel a pulse, beating in tandem with the racing of his heart.</p><p>Damian would have laid Annabeth down on the soft loam and assisted Dorian, but the Polemarch had it covered. He was atop the creature's chest, swinging his axe repeatedly at its neck severing the beastly head from its body.</p><p>The stories were true. Dorian was a demon in combat. Unmatched skill, aggression, and experience.</p><p>Damian rose to his feet, Annabeth still in his arms, her head resting against his chest.</p><p>"Dorian, we have to go now. How far is Megara?"</p><p>"Not that far," Dorian replied. "If we are lucky, we'll be out of the forest within the hour which leaves us with another hour's ride to Megara."</p><p>"The horses went that way," Damian nodded towards the clearing just south of them. "They shouldn't have gotten far."</p><p>"Probably find them grazing," Dorian said mildly annoyed. "Damned animals! We better hurry." His gaze falling upon Annabeth, his expression softening. "She'll need a healer. No doubt she has a few cracked ribs."</p><p>As expected, they found the horses grazing in the small clearing. Dorian was not amused. Then again, Dorian was rarely amused.</p><p>Damian tried to wake Annabeth with his voice. It didn't work. He tried shaking her gently-</p><p>Her eyes shot open, and she screamed again, her back arching violently. If Damian had not been hell-bent on being as careful as possible, he probably would have dropped her. Such was the intensity of her quivering.</p><p>It was then he noticed her eyes were their usual color. That hope he had felt not so long ago returned. He found her gaze, holding it.</p><p>"Hey, Annabeth. Don't panic. We'll get you to a healer as soon as possible." She nodded slightly; pain too intense for her to speak.</p><p>"She'll have to ride with you," Dorian instructed. "She's in no condition to ride on her own. I'll bring up the rear and protect us from any attacks."</p><p>"Agreed. Help me lift her onto the horse."</p><p>And so, they did as gently as possible. Though, that didn't stop Annabeth from screaming and cursing. Damian sat behind; arms stretched around her to grab on to the reigns. That way, Annabeth would have support for her back and his arms would keep her from careening of the mare if she did fade out of consciousness.</p><p>"Chloe will never forgive me." Damian whispered under his breath.</p><p>"She will,<em>" </em>Annabeth replied.</p><p>"You weren't supposed to hear that," said Damian, laughing nervously.</p><p>"Well…I did. So enough with the <em>brooding</em> and get us to our destination." She chided. "Let this quest be over and done with. We have a marriage to attend". Damian couldn't help but smile.</p><hr/><p>Edited 29th Apr 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>I hope you like my take on Annabeth and my two OCs</strong>
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  <strong>Do leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed the chapter</strong>
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  <strong>I'd really appreciate it</strong>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Angel of Death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks for the continued support. Seriously. You guys are amazing.</p><p>Here is the long-awaited continuation to Percy’s story. </p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Percy</p><p>Percy drifted in and out of consciousness. In and out of pain, of fear, of despair.</p><p>It was all a blur—perhaps a dream. One filled with the strangest things: an armored squid; behemoths of sea creatures breaking down into smaller copies; faces looking up at him—human faces, some with sympathy, others fear.</p><p>Percy remembered one thing clearly. The loss. Everything. He'd lost everything. It should have been him. Not his mother, not Damascus, not Emily's parents.</p><p><em>It should have been him</em>.</p><p>And that was the one vivid thought that tore through him more so than the wounds on his back, as he lay face-first on that raft, drifting across the seas...</p><p>The next time he woke, it was to voices. A foreign thing. How long had he been out at sea? At least a few days—maybe a week for him to have stumbled upon land.</p><p>"Ow did he-" one man asked with a nasally voice.</p><p>"I don't know," a second man answered, his voice gruff.</p><p>"Is he alive?"</p><p>"I <em>don't </em>know." his voice flared, clearly irritated by his companion.</p><p>Percy would have asked for help or gotten up to explain his situation but then again, what was the point?</p><p>"Oi! Let's douse him," A pair of scrawny legs belonging to the nasally-voice came into view.</p><p>"Aye," A second pair of legs, the opposite of scrawny. "It's about time we make a move. Curfew is fast approaching."</p><p>Vision already fading, Percy watched as one of them bent forward to fill an amphora with sea water. Moments later…</p><p>Pain writhing through his back—through his very being. Overwhelming all his senses. Jolting him back to the land of the living. He was thinking clearly now, for the first time in a long time. If not for the clarity it had bestowed upon him, Percy would have cursed the idiots. Even a pinch of salt would have burned him. What were they thinking?</p><p>But with that clarity came another thought. Maybe it should have been him. But it wasn't. He could not give up now. Not when it meant wasting her sacrifice. Tainting it. Clenching his teeth and his fist, Percy pushed himself to his feet.</p><p>The two men stared, one muttering a silent prayer on repeat, the other jaw-dropped, stumbling backwards. He slipped, arms flailing wildly but his companion caught him.</p><p>Did he really inspire such fear? Was it the flakes of blood crusted all over him, or the fact that to them, they had just witnessed a dead man rise? Not a man, he reminded himself, just a boy.</p><p>The braver of the pair, the one with the gravelly voice spoke, "Apologies mister," He was stroking that long scruffy beard of his, eyes as weathered as his face. "My friend here is bit of a wimp." His companion stared daggers at him. He took no notice. "How can we help?"</p><p>"Could you point me to a healer?" Percy asked.</p><p>"No. Not in Nauplia…not anymore," he said solemnly. "She was killed in a recent monster attack. A curfew has been put up ever since. We can't afford to take any risks now that she's gone."</p><p>"Corinth would be ye best bet," the scrawny man nodded eagerly. "Hmm…no. Too far. Ye could try Argos, our sister city. She sprawls and sprawls she does. There's sure to be a healer of sorts."</p><p><em>Corinth. </em>Why did it sound so familiar<em>?</em> Delving into his memory garnered nothing. "Which way?"</p><p>"Due north," the bearded man answered. "But it's too risky. Most people wouldn't be able to make it—let alone in your condition. Besides, I've heard Argos has a curfew of its own. It's best you rest the night here. There's a tavern just down the road, The Slippery Eel."</p><p><em>Great</em>. Percy felt better already. What was it with taverns and their terribly coined names? What? Had 'The Winged Eagle' or 'The Tall Giraffe' already been taken. The thought did not bring him a smile. It did not seem right, smiling. Not when…</p><p>Percy shoved away the thought. He could feel the despair cresting in him, ready to crash down and take him with it. He could not allow it.</p><p>"Thank you. I won't forget this." Percy would have bowed if it were not for his back.</p><p>The two men muttered their goodbyes and rushed off, presumably to beat the curfew. Percy hobbled his way to the tavern with quick short breaths, trying to take his mind of the pain. A wooden sign hung from the cobblestone walls, on it an eel. A slippery one.</p><p>A ruckus could be heard, spilling along with the light through the cracks of the door. Music, chatter, and cluttering cutlery. He pushed the door open only to be greeted by silence. Apparently, despite the strange characters that frequented taverns, a boy in a torn chiton, matted with blood was deemed unusual. Heads turned his way, some eyeing him with concern, others like vultures. There were a few exceptions of course, those who came to mind their own business, did.</p><p>Moments later, the ruckus rose back to a swell as all activity resumed. Some were in heated discussion—almost always accompanied by massive tankards of ale. Some played cards, dice and petteia. Hovering around them, whispers and drachma-filled hands passing from one to the other, behind backs and under tables. In a dark corner, a hooded figure.</p><p>Percy approached the counter—a long wooden tabletop lined with stools and peered over as an aproned man emerged from a doorway. He looked friendly enough despite the sheer size of his arms.</p><p>"Drinks?"</p><p>Percy shook his head, then realised that he was in fact parched and starving. The pain had masked it.</p><p>"Water, please." The man looked at him again, as if he'd heard wrongly. Did people not drink water here? The tavernkeeper slid a tankard towards him. Percy chugged it down.</p><p>"Anything else?"</p><p>"Can I get a room for the night?" Percy asked hopefully</p><p>"Nay, unless…" he gestured to the rest of the guests in the tavern, "someone here is willing to share. Were full as full can be."</p><p>Percy glanced over his shoulder. No one stood out to him as someone willing to share a room with him or vice versa. A serving girl, around his age streamed past him with a plate of roast quail that smelt <em>amazing</em>. His stomach growled and mouth watered at the prospect of having a proper meal.</p><p>"In that case, I'll get one of those," Percy pointed to the dish being served. A quick meal, then he'd have to find a healer. "Do you sell maps of the mainland?"</p><p>"Aye," the man answered, eyes narrowed as if to register the fact that Percy was not from here. Surely the most common of occurrences for a trading port as famed as Nauplia. "The quail will cost you one Obol. Three for the map."</p><p>Percy reached for his pockets, cursing inwardly. What little money he owned had been somehow or rather lost on his journey here. "Is there any way else I can pay you?" Percy asked sincerely.</p><p>"This is a professional establishment young man! We do not hand out favors-" his gaze drifted to Percy's hand. "Scratch that, if you trade me that ring, I'll even throw in a night's lodging."</p><p>"You said there weren't any rooms," Percy stepped back and twisted his ring protectively. It was all he had of his mother—his father. He'd die before it left his finger.</p><p>"Arrangements can always be made-"</p><p>"The ring is not for sale," Percy said simply, turning away, almost bumping into someone. It was the hooded figure from earlier. He leaned towards the owner and whispered in his ear.</p><p>The stranger was of noble descent, judging from the ornate cloak. Before Percy caught a glimpse of his face, he turned away.</p><p>"A map as requested," the tavernkeeper handed him the map, his other hand clutching a bunch of silver coins. "Take a seat. You'll be served shortly."</p><p>Why had the stranger helped him? And where was he now? The least Percy could do was offer his gratitude.</p><p>As he scanned the crowd, one man let loose a broken cry before proceeding to smash his head against the table. Chaos ensued, one after the other. Percy swerved as the tavernkeeper threw a plate at him.</p><p>
  <em>Not again.</em>
</p><p>Had they really followed him across the sea? A screech only confirming it.</p><p>He had brought death upon them, as he'd done his home. <em>Not yet</em>, a part of him yelled. There was no time to waste, he had to get away from here. As far from human life as possible. He would not have blood on his hands. Never again.</p><p>Grimacing through the pain, Percy shot out the tavern only to find one of the demons hovering above him. Those eyes sent a shiver down his spine. As if his back remembered what it was that had ripped through it. If not for his disposition, or lack of weapon, he would have taken it on. But now, all he could do was run. And so, he did. Faster than even he thought possible.</p><p>Darting through the city was a gauntlet of its own. The alleys were narrow, winding, barely wide enough for two. It didn't help that they were littered with a range of obstacles. Sacks and baskets of fruit and vegetables; drying racks lined with poultry and fish; wagons-full of supplies.</p><p>Percy felt the warmth of blood trickling down his back. All the dodging and weaving must've caused his wounds to reopen. He had only just begun the slow process of healing, and now here he was back to ground zero. It didn't matter though, not if he got this demon away from the city.</p><p>Another screech told him the creature was close. There, up ahead, a wagon full of farm tools. Without slowing, Percy tugged loose a tool by the handle, sending a whole bunch of others to the ground. He shouted an apology to the neighboring house, still running, a plough in his hand, an unwieldy weapon to say the least. But it would have to do.</p><p>The path ahead was blocked forcing Percy to turn a corner. He almost slammed face-first into a wall. When he turned, the demon had landed, wings spread, claws outstretched. Percy raised his weapon. There was no escape now. If this were to be the end, he would go out fighting. The creature shot forward, soaring through the air, lips curled back to reveal rows of jagged teeth.</p><p>Percy swung at its wings, but the sheer weight of the weapon and the speed of creature was enough for him to miss. It wrapped its wings and spun towards him, catching him in the chest and throwing him against the wall.</p><p>His vision blurred, either from the pain of his back or the fact that he had hit his head. He managed to raise his head high enough to see the creature lift its claw, ready to deal the killing blow.</p><p>Percy closed his eyes, embracing the darkness. At least he'd see his mother again.</p><p>It never came—that darkness. Instead it was another one of those cursed shrieks that greeted him. The demon was pinned to the side wall, an arrow lodged in its shoulder. Another arrow whizzed past Percy, straight into the creature's throat. This time there was no screech as it slumped forward.</p><p>It was dead.</p><p>Tracing the trajectory of the arrow, Percy spotted the cloaked stranger from before. At least the silhouette of him, perched on the rooftop wielding a bow. The stranger leapt from the rooftops, effortlessly landing in a roll before him.</p><p>Percy offered him a hand but was interrupted by the heavy thud of flapping wings. Another demon had arrived. A heartbeat later, the creature froze and came crashing down onto the roof, dislodging a large chunk of it as it slid to the ground. Also dead, an arrow through its skull.</p><p>Percy turned back to the stranger in awe and watched as he rose to his feet. His hood fell back from the motion as moonlight streamed into the alleyway…</p><p>The stranger was not a man. No—the stranger was a girl. And she was beautiful. Her graceful features framed within a curtain of dark locks. Her eyes a startling deep blue that matched her cloak and necklace. Percy would have been at a loss for words if he didn't have to thank her. Thank the gods he did.</p><p>But before he opened his mouth, she scowled at him, eyes still bright, features still graceful.</p><hr/><p>Thalia</p><p>Thalia, breathing still ragged from the adrenaline and effort, scowled. "Why would you get yourself cornered like that? You should have stayed near the tavern. There is strength in numbers." <em>There is strength in numbers, </em>the thought echoing in her mind, eliciting painful memories. She had been a fool for leaving the training camp.</p><p>"You don't understand," the boy explained. "These creatures…they mess with the mind. I have seen it before. It would have been a bloodbath."</p><p>Thalia blinked, stepped back, and took a deep breath. "So <em>that</em> was what I was feeling-"</p><p>"Fear…" he said, "Pure, unadulterated fear. They seem to be a sort of fear demon. They have been pursuing me from Crete."</p><p>"Crete," Thalia said. "That's far. How long have they been following you?"</p><p>The boy looked confused, "I can't be certain, I've lost track of time-"</p><p>His knees buckled and he stumbled forward. Thalia caught him by the shoulders and steadied him. She felt for him—she really did. After all, she knew how exhausting it was to be pursued. It had been days before she had finally shaken off all the hellhounds. Her expression softened. "Hey, what's your name? Mine's Thalia."</p><p>"P-Percy." he managed. "You saved my life. Thank you." A quick glance at his back told her enough. He had been in a terrible condition even before the attack. Now…</p><p>She had to get him help fast<em>. </em>He was already losing consciousness.</p><p>"Percy," she shook him. "We need to find you a healer. You're losing a lot of blood. I need your help, okay. Stay with me."</p><p>He straightened his back and nodded, wincing through the pain, "We need to get to Argos. There should be a healer there."</p><p>"I know the way. If we hurry, we'll be there in no time. Hold on to me, I'll get you there in one piece." She lifted his arm and placed it over her shoulder so that she could support him. They hobbled forward, slowly but surely.</p><p>They continued in silence to preserve his energy, their pace better than before now that they were used to the motion. But it would not be enough. Even now her arm was drenched in his blood and his feet were dragging.</p><p>Thalia decided to change strategies. She'd have to keep him talking. An engaged mind would keep his body from giving out. At least she hoped so.</p><p>"So…where are you heading?"</p><p>A long silence followed, as he tried to find an answer, his eyes a storm of green.</p><p>"I don't know. All I remember is that my mother asked me to flee my village. That it was me those things were after. The rest is a blur."</p><p>Thalia did not know what to say to that. His tale…</p><p>Even that snippet, almost exactly like hers.</p><p>"What happened to her?" Thalia asked, immediately regretting the question, her own traumas still fresh. She should have known the answer from the heaviness in his voice.</p><p>Cyril was gone. A fact she still struggled with for every breath she took. The only comfort, knowing that he'd be reunited with Linus.</p><p>"She's gone," Percy answered, sounding as broken as she felt on the inside. "She died saving me. I couldn't protect the ones I love and now I can't even protect myself. I'm a waste of a sacrifice."</p><p>"Don't say that." Again, his tale so close to hers. She knew that pain. She lived with it.</p><p>"Why? It's the truth isn't it? I would have died if you didn't come along when you did."</p><p>He was right, of course. But that didn't change the fact that what he felt was wrong—that guilt. She had to believe that, more so for herself. Perhaps if she could forgive someone else for the same mistakes, she might finally find a way to forgive herself.</p><p>"I'll tell you what, once you recover, I'll teach you how to fight. I think you'll learn a thing or two."</p><p>"I think so too," he said, offering her the slightest of smiles. There was a sincerity to it—to him.</p><p>"Where did you learn to fight?" The smile turning to one of curiosity. Good, at least he would not collapse on her.</p><p>"Sparta," she breathed. It had been some time since she'd said it. It felt strange on her tongue, now that she was so far from home. A small part of her wondered if it had ever been real. Her life and all that came before, or whatever it is that happened since that night. An after effect of losing everything she held dear only to have to travel in solitude while being pursued by the darkness for weeks on end. But it had to be real because Cyril was real.</p><p>"<em>Sparta,"</em> Percy repeated with a glimmer in his eyes. "I always wanted to be a Spartan Warrior. I used to sneak into the city just to catch a glimpse of them.'</p><p>"You grew up in Sparta?"</p><p>"Not exactly," Percy swallowed, as if the next words were too difficult. After a time, he spoke again, having defeated that inner battle. "My mother and I used to live in Mesoa. We moved to Crete when I was about eight. I never understood why we left."</p><p>"I always wanted to explore the villages," she added, steering the conversation on for he was barely holding on at this point.</p><p>"The grass is always greener on the other side, I guess." Percy laughed then winced.</p><p>"Perhaps…but now is probably <em>not </em>the best time for laughter, no?" Thalia said, smiling at his antics. They arrived in Argos moments later. It was empty—devoid of life. No lights, no movement, no sounds.</p><p>"It's past curfew," Percy explained. "Everyone should be safely holed up in their homes. We won't be able to find a healer now."</p><p>"Don't give up so soon," Thalia said. "I have a plan."</p><p>"Help!" Thalia shouted as they walked the streets, "Help!"</p><p>"That's your plan. Really?" Percy asked with raised brows. His eyelids, though, were drooping.</p><p>"What, you got a better idea?" she retorted.</p><p>"Hmm," Percy grunted in defeat—maybe pain.</p><p>"Help!" Thalia continued. 'Help!" This time there was movement. A curtain drawn, then a pair of eyes popping into view. Before she could approach, they slunk back from whence they came.</p><p>"Dammit! He's dying! He needs a healer!" on and on she screamed, moving through the streets, Percy getting heavier by the moment. At this point, she was practically dragging him across the gravel.</p><p>"Thalia—it's okay. Lay me down," His lashes fluttering, eyes barely open. "I need to rest-"</p><p>"No!" she scolded him, tugging his arm with extreme force.</p><p>"Why do you care? I don't."</p><p>He was clearly deranged from the loss of blood, mumbling wildly, shooting question after question to himself and her.</p><p>Thalia answered honestly, "I won't let someone else die on my watch."</p><p>There it was. Her truth. Cyril would not have died if she had been more aware. Some warrior she was. It was because of her that he'd lost his weapon.</p><p>It reached him—her truth. His eyes gained a certain clarity. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" he passed out; head slumped onto her shoulder. She could barely keep him up let alone keep her hopes up.</p><p>"Psst!" A hiss.</p><p>Thalia turned to find a door pushed slightly ajar. A hand shot out, gesturing for her to come forward.</p><p>"Over here," a voice, belonging to that hand whispered. "I can help him".</p><hr/><p>Edited 29th Apr 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>There it is. Perlia has met. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.</strong>
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  <strong>All comments and kudos are appreciated.</strong>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Heart of a Warrior</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks for the continued support. Seriously. (Like seriously) You guys are amazing.</p><p>Thinks are picking up now. After the next chapter, which is the last villain one for some time, 13 out of 14 chapters have Percy and Thalia within them.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Annabeth</p><p>Annabeth's eyes snapped open, her breaths—agony. The pounding in her head feather-light to that of her ribs. Like a drum to thunder. Yet it was the drum that stood out. Not the pain but something else…something foreign. Like the chamber she found herself in. No—a healer's hut, she realised, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. Flanking her bed were shelves lined with herbs, both in jars and pots, and scattered among them, worn leather-bound tomes.</p><p>A part of her—maybe her heart—searched for Chloe. But Chloe did not own a hut, her room nothing like this. It came back to her gradually, her memories. She was on a quest. The last thing she remembered was Damian holding her. They had been on the way to Megara. Was this it?</p><p>She called for them, both Damian and Dorian, trying to raise herself. Thunder struck again, travelling from the tip of her spine to her waist. She took in quick shallow breathes to ease the pain, or at least distract her from it. It made it worse.</p><p>A candle in the doorway then a voice. "Fighting. It never helps. There is only one road it leads to-"</p><p>"Where are my companions?" she asked, perhaps ungrateful for he was surely her healer. But she did not like his tone—the emptiness in it. He stepped forth, revealing a man larger even then Dorian. And his face, not empty, not unkind, just aged. Not by time, but something else. Perhaps sorrow.</p><p>"Defeat." He breathed, not quite meeting her eyes.</p><p>Annabeth repeated her question, pulling that haunted gaze on her.</p><p>"They'll be back soon. All you can do now is rest." The man moved to her side, resting the candle on a shelve. "You're strong. Most wouldn't attempt moving after fracturing their ribs."</p><p>"I am not like most people," Annabeth mumbled, her thoughts elsewhere. She did not remember breaking her ribs, yet alone an attack. Delving into her memories only brought back that foreign feeling. Like her mind had been violated. Her very being.</p><p>"No." the man remarked with a half-smile. "You are not. I'm Alexo. A friend of Dorian's"</p><p>The door swung open. Damian and Dorian strutted in, satchels bursting with supplies. Alexo moved to them, relieving them of the supplies. It was only then Damian noticed her.</p><p>"You're up," he beamed. "How are you feeling?"</p><p>"Fine," Annabeth smiled through the pain. "We don't have time to waste. Every moment we wait is a moment someone out there is dying."</p><p>Alexo seemed to be about to protest, but Damian was already beside her, cupping her hand in his.</p><p>"Whoa there…relax," Damian said, eyes wide with concern. "It's only been a day."</p><p>"A <em>day!"</em> Annabeth squeezed his hand.</p><p>He winced. "It wasn't because of you. Dorian and I heard a stirring in the woods and thought it best to wait it out."</p><p>A lie. "You shouldn't have waited for me."</p><p>Damian rubbed at his face then sighed. "What was I supposed to do, Annabeth. Leave you here."</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Would you have left me?"</p><p>"Perhaps." She said simply. Also, a lie.</p><p>"We leave no one behind-"</p><p>"Not ever." Annabeth finished, rolling her eyes. She'd heard him announce his mantra time and time again and could sense it coming a mile away. His eyes took on a certain shine whenever he was about to recite it.</p><p>Confirming first that Alexo and Dorian were otherwise occupied—in heated discussion across the room, Dorian mixing the newly procured supplies in a bowl—she pulled Damian closer and whispered in his ear.</p><p>"What happened in the forest?" her voice shaky, weak. At least with him she dared show it—her fear. She would not diminish the hard-earned respect she had garnered from Dorian. As a daughter of Athena, it was one of her many prerogatives to earn the respect of the Polemarch—warlord of Hemitheopolis.</p><p>"You don't remember?" Damian pulled away searching her eyes worriedly.</p><p>She shook her head.</p><p>"We were attacked by a Cercopes."</p><p><em>Cercopes</em>. Annabeth had read the tales. Creatures famed for their cunning. Troublemakers of the highest order—playing pranks and thieving from travelers. It was for that reason she'd thought them fiction. A rare thing for her, not believing the words she read. But then again non-hostile giant pranksters seemed too far of a stretch, even for her imagination.</p><p>Annabeth explained the fact to him.</p><p>Damian scoffed, "Oh, it was real alright, and hostile. It nearly <em>killed</em> you. As for why you can't remember anything-"</p><p>Dorian was there, hand on Damian's shoulder, glaring at him. "We agreed not to tell her," he hissed.</p><p>Annabeth was on the verge of pleading, of throwing away a shred of her dignity, but Damian came to her rescue. Within her throbbing ribs, a warmth spreading through her.</p><p>"She deserves to know," Damian unflinching under the weight of Dorian's glare.</p><p>"Fine!" he waved his hand. "Tell her."</p><p>"The cercopes acted strange." Damian explained</p><p>"Strange how?" Annabeth raised her brows.</p><p>"As it was about to land a killing blow-" he swallowed. That was the second time he had brought up how close she was to dying. She knew how hard it was—watching someone you cared for in danger. If their positions were swapped, she would have been the same.</p><p>"It froze."</p><p>"Froze? Are we speaking literally or figuratively?"</p><p>A shrug of the shoulder. "All I know is its eyes turned white, and its movements unnatural. Like a puppet whose strings were being manipulated. And when it grabbed you, your eyes turned the same milky-white. It was terrifying—you were screaming and…and I thought I'd lost you."</p><p>Annabeth squeezed his hand again, this time gently. "Hey, you didn't. I'm here, I'm fine and I'm coming with you."</p><p>"That's enough of that," Alexo said. "You need rest and medicine, not a quest." He shoved a wooden bowl sloshing with a thick greenish broth underneath her nose. Gods it was putrid. Like burnt grass and rotting wood, yet so much worse.</p><p>"What is that?" she grimaced.</p><p>"It's better you don't know," Dorian added, shuddering as if speaking from experience.</p><p>"Drink it," Alexo said. 'It's the only chance you'll be able to continue your quest."</p><p>And just like that, the magic words were spoken. Without a second thought, Annabeth pinched her nose and downed the liquid in one go. She regretted it immediately, now understanding why the mere memory made Dorian shudder.</p><p>Ready to escape the confines of her bed, she reached out for Damian, a silent request to help her up.</p><p>"You are in no condition. As Polemarch and as the leader of this quest, I forbid it." Dorian said with a finality that brooked no argument. He tapped Damian on the shoulder and turned on his heels, already moving towards the exit.</p><p>Damian looked torn, flicking his head from Dorian to her. She would not be the one that prevented him from obeying a direct order. She offered him a small smile. "Go. I'll be alright."</p><p>He turned her hand in his and kissed the back of it before pulling away.</p><hr/><p>Damian</p><p>Damian and Dorian had been trekking through the hills for nearly an hour now. Yet, they had not spotted a single monster. Dorian vanished into a nearby clump of bushes, Damian at his heels.</p><p>"It's time we try a different approach," Dorian whispered. "We've had no luck roaming these damned lands. This is one of the only easily scalable paths to the mountain pass. We'll wait for them to come to us."</p><p>It seemed reasonable enough. Though, it didn't fill him with esteem knowing that his first proper quest had started with him failing to protect Annabeth and that he now found himself hiding amongst bushes, lying flat on his stomach, being careful to avoid the thorns that grew there.</p><p>It was after a time, when a beam of moonlight shot through the bushes, did Damian notice the crimson petals that bloomed around him, shining like rubies in the moonlight.</p><p>Damian blinked and before he knew it, those petals resembled lips. Lips he wished for nothing more than to brush his fingers against—brush his lips against.</p><p>It had only been a couple of days, yet his heart yearned for her—his rose.</p><p><em>Soon</em>. Soon he would be reunited with her. Then…</p><p>Then he had the rest of his life ahead of him.</p><p>"<em>Pst!"</em></p><p>Damian nearly jumped in surprise. His heart did, at least. He narrowed his eyes towards the source of the sound-</p><p>A figure huddled in the neighboring bushes and a mess of blonde curls.</p><p>"Annabeth?" Damian exclaimed. "What are you doing here? You should be resting. How did you even escape or find us?"</p><p>"Shh! We're on a stealth mission, remember." She whispered harshly, that sly smile of hers playing on her lips. But she could not hide it even then—the pain she was in. It was foolish of her to come.</p><p>Damian looked at Dorian for support in the matter, the polemarch not at all flabbergasted like he was. As if he'd seen it coming. Dorian looked straight past him and offered Annabeth a begrudging nod of respect.</p><p>"I wondered if you'd given up your pursuit." Dorian was holding her stare. "Sloppy, slow and loud. I expected better from you."</p><p>Never the one for straight-faced praise. There was always a caveat. Always something that could have been done better. But right now, Damian couldn't care less about that. He stuck his neck out getting in between them.</p><p>"You knew she was following us, and you let her?" He was angry at them both. And that fear for her life filled him with enough courage that he found himself challenging his mentor for the first time.</p><p>Dorian didn't seem to care, looking bored in return. "It was her decision to make. And she's here now, isn't she? Who am I to stop the heart of a warrior?"</p><p>Damian turned to Annabeth already knowing that the praise would go to her head. He was right. She was positively beaming with pride.</p><p>"You'll stay behind me at all times." he held her gaze, infinitely grateful that her eyes were still her own. Sensing the gravity in his tone, she nodded.</p><p>"Anyways," She huddled closer to him. "What are we doing in the bushes?"</p><p>"We wouldn't have to be in this situation if Thaddeus was here," Dorian gave them both pointed looks. It was his turn to ignore the polemarch.</p><p>It was his daily ritual to taunt them, Damian especially. Thaddeus this, Thaddeus that, bla…bla…bla. The truth was—and Damian was sure Dorian knew it—was that it didn't affect him. Damian had never been the jealous type especially not when it came to Thaddeus. There was a mutual respect there. They had once been as close as brothers. Perhaps they still were, but time and the labors of life had drifted them apart.</p><p>Damian supposed it was just one of Dorian's strange methods of imparting knowledge. Either to motivate them to always strive to be the best or to test if they'd react—if they had mastery over one's emotions.</p><p>"Over there," Annabeth nudged him, wincing from the movement. "Just at the crest of the hill—shadows." She was right. They were growing larger by the second, multiplying.</p><p>"Dracanae," Dorian muttered. "A herd of them. At least twenty strong. Wait for them to pass…then we follow."</p><p>And so, they did exactly that, waiting in anticipated silence. The creatures…slithered past them. It was the only word to describe their movement on those twin serpent-like trunks they had for legs. From the waist-up they looked like ordinary women if ordinary women had scales and wings.</p><p>They each held a weapon. Weapons they knew how to use if what he had learnt was true. They had always been warned that the Dracanae were some of the most intelligent monsters to ever live. Some text even claimed their language of hisses and bared fangs as complex as our own.</p><p>Once there was enough distance between them and the dracanae, Dorian signaled for them to move. But before the knew it, they had lost sight of them, the herd having disappeared up the crest of another hill. Annabeth was struggling to keep up, taking quick small steps to keep her spine as straight as possible and quick short breaths to distract her from the pain.</p><p>Damian went to help her, but she raised her hand in defiance. A deep breath later and she was walking as fast as him. She truly was remarkably strong. And remarkably stubborn.</p><p>"Damn this terrain!" Dorian grunted. "After all these years, this is the quest I choose to lead. My aging joints are not cut out for this."</p><p>Damian and Annabeth shared an amused smile, both trying to contain their laughter.</p><p>They stopped for a moment, just to catch a breather and pushed on. There were not many places the Dracanae could go from here.</p><p>"I want the two of you to move quickly and more importantly, to keep low," Dorian instructed. "There's no telling what's waiting for us on the other side."</p><p>He was right. There was no anticipating this. Nothing would have prepared them for it. Nothing. Down this hill, nested in the mountain pass was an army of monsters. Not a pack, not a herd, not a mob. No—an army. A congregation of one's worsts nightmares. Thousands of them. A part of him was glad he couldn't make out half the species on show.</p><p>"They're gathering an army," Dorian pondered, "But for what?"</p><p>Annabeth was being awfully quiet, which was strange in this situation where there were a multitude of questions to be asked and as many answers to be found. He turned to her, and found that she was too pale, muttering wildly under her breath.</p><p>"What is it?"</p><p>"Thieves." She breathed.</p><p>'What?"</p><p>"No, no, no," she was shaking her head furiously. "It's all wrong. I remember now. The Cercopes. They did steal something from me—my memories. That's why I've felt so off."</p><p>"How is that possible?" Damian pressed.</p><p>"When the Cercopes grabbed me..." Annabeth explained. "You said my eyes turned white, remember?" Damian nodded her on. "It accessed my memories. I don't know how but I know that it did. I was unconscious, yet I remember moments, especially those of us planning the quest, flashing through my mind, being ripped from it."</p><p>Dorian scanned the horizon, eyes flaring, and drew his weapon, "That can only mean one thing."</p><p>"A trap." Annabeth finished, drawing her knives.</p><p>As if on command, the herd of dracanae slithered up behind them, tongues snapping through the air as they hissed. Usually, this would not be a problem. Between the three of them, they had the battle prowess and intelligence to overcome the odds. But this was not the usual. Annabeth was injured and they were pinned. There was no room for tactical combat when a few steps back would send them tumbling of the hillside and rolling straight into an army.</p><p>To make matters infinitely worse, one of the dracanae was under the same influence the cercopes had been—white eyes and all. Which meant a single touch from it would take one of them out of commission while also giving the enemy valuable information.</p><p>The herd closed in on them. The only way they'd make it out of this was if they broke through, and so, Damian charged. He had done it a hundred times before; charging against insurmountable odds. But this time was different. This time he did something he had never before done in battle. He hesitated.</p><p>Hesitation that came from a place of fear. Fear that he'd never see Chloe again. Fear that he'd never propose to her, never get married or have children or grow old, and worst of all, fear at how she'd react. Dying was one thing. But snuffing out Chloe's light…</p><p>That was something he could not live with—could not forgive.</p><p>But that was all it took. One moment of hesitation. Time slowed-</p><p>An arrow sailing for his heart. In his daze, he did not have time to deflect it.</p><p>
  <em>Chloe. I'm sorry-</em>
</p><p>Damian fell upon that hill, but when he reached for his chest—nothing. He was breathing. He was alive. The realization kicked his battle senses into gear. Arching his back, he flipped onto his feet in a swift motion, blade out, Annabeth beside him, Dorian ahead. His feet solidly planted to the ground, hammer raised in challenge, a wall between the dracanae and his mentees. A wall that had stood against countless more to protect Hemitheopolis.</p><p>But even then, he saw the trail of blood trickling down the polemarch's back. Its source, the arrow that had been destined for him. Dorian must have shoved him out of the way. He was fast, deceptively so. With him they stood a chance.</p><p>Damian wanted to tell Annabeth to stay back but there was nowhere safe, and she wouldn't have listened anyway now that the situation had changed. He shot her a look that said, <em>be careful</em>.</p><p>She returned it. Damian charged, this time not a single fiber of his being holding him back. He flew into the herd of dracanae, akin to a whirling demon. A dance of death ensued. One worthy of song as Damian and Dorian tore through the blockade, Annabeth using the distraction to take out the archer that had nearly killed him.</p><p>Things were going well; they had turned the tide of the battle, but even then, Damian could sense that something was wrong. Dorian was slowing down, his movements sluggish—a wall crumbling…</p><p>The possessed Dracanae, who had survived their onslaught, lurched forward with its spear but Dorian was to slow to bring down his hammer to deflect it. The spear ripped through him. He roared in pain, swinging his hammer wildly and crushing the skull of the enemy.</p><p>"Dorian," Damian rushed to him. "Get behind me. You've done your part. There's only five of them left and the main threat is down. Annabeth and I can take em."</p><p>Dorian glanced back to Annabeth, who was keeled over in pain. "Not likely," Dorian grunted, blood spurting from his mouth. He grabbed the handle of the spear and ripped it out of his side, screaming in pain, channeling it as he threw the weapon. It whistled through the air, slamming straight through the nearest dracanae. The force of his throw sent the creature flying. It landed a few feet away—spear lodged in the earth.</p><p>The dying creature's wings fluttered, trunks wriggling, trying to escape its fate. There it stood, a battle standard, a twisted monument of war. One that had only just begun.</p><p>Dorian fell to his knees with a resounding thud, his eyes darting to Annabeth as Damian tried to lift him.</p><p>"Go, she needs you."</p><p>She did. The last of the Dracanae had turned their attention on her. Two of them closing on her, another pair slithering their way there.</p><p>Damian let loose a battle cry as he ran to her. One slice then two-</p><p>Heads rolling then bodies-</p><p>The two remaining Dracanae, whirled towards him, hissing as they watched their brethren fall. Fangs bared and dripping with poison. Good, Annabeth was already moving away.</p><p>As Damian approached them, he bent down and retrieved the blade of a fallen dracanae, gradually increasing his pace. He broke into a sudden sprint, and when the clash was imminent, dug his new blade into the soft earth before slicing it upwards, hitting the creatures with a face-full of dirt and pebbles. It was all he needed to slip between them and swing both his blades in an <em>X</em>. More heads rolled.</p><p>"Annabeth," Damian caught up to her and slung an arm beneath her shoulder. "Dorian, he's injured. We gotta help him."</p><p>Annabeth shook her head, lips pursed, eyes gleaming with tears.</p><p>"What is it?"</p><p>"He's dying." She pointed at the archer she killed—its quiver. "The arrows are laced with poison."</p><p>"No," Damian breathed. "We can save him. We have to. The healer's hut is not too far."</p><p>She said nothing, teeth clenched as she nodded for him to continue moving-</p><p>She was right. She was always right. Dorian was at death's door when they arrived. His mouth agape, bubbling with foam and blood. But his eyes still shone with that inner fire. He turned to them, spitting out a large chunk of blood.</p><p>"Damian…Annabeth," his eyelids drooping. "It may not always seem it. But I am proud of you. The both of you. Send Hector my regards. Te-tell him I died with honor and that I'm sorry I broke our vow. Tell him I loved him-" he coughed again, even more blood spurting forth from his lips than before. "He was my brother in life and so he will be in death."</p><p>He froze. The wall fallen. The fire extinguished.</p><hr/><p>Edited 29th Apr 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Bits of my narrative are being revealed. I hope it makes sense.</strong>
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  <strong>Please leave a review if you enjoyed the chapter</strong>
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  <strong>I'd really appreciate it</strong>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Council of Titans</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks for the all the support.</p><p>This is my last villain only chapter. He will return but with other characters. Thanks for the patience. Perlia one next.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Triptolemus</p><p>Triptolemus watched as his sister's eyes flashed white, as she fell to her knees and let loose a silent scream. Instinctively, he rushed forward to catch her, only then remembering she wasn't there—not really.</p><p>A fool. Sitting around and doing nothing. He might as well have stayed in the pit. Something within him flared. The ancient blood of his, boiling-</p><p>This was her fault. She was the one who had come up with this horrid plan. The one that brought him from one cursed place to another. Still helpless. Still worthless.</p><p>Another glimpse at his sister crushed those thoughts. Not only a fool, but a bastard. One without honor. For it was she that had saved him. She that had prised him from eons of torture—eons of reliving his stupidly meaningless life. Deep down, he knew why those wretched thoughts came…</p><p>Their mind meld…heart meld, perhaps. In those small moments that spanned a millennium, he had lived her life. Been with her through every blindingly glorious moment. A life that could never be his regardless how hard he dreamt.</p><p>Mnemosyne was not born amongst hatred or malice or contempt. She had not lived it either. But when it came time, she had turned towards it, embraced it, let it poison her veins. Triptolemus didn't blame her. She had every right after what happened. That heinous betrayal that still made his fist tremble with fury.</p><p>He would crush the gods beneath his fist. These <em>Olympians</em> whose word meant even less than his father's. You see, Triptolemus didn't hate them for overthrowing his brother. No, he hated them for what they did after. Defeating his mother was one thing, but that was solicitated. Throwing Mnemosyne into the pit, however, wasn't. She, like most of his sisters had sided with the gods during the Titanomachy.</p><p>They were cowards. Afraid of her powers. Afraid of the collective memories of a world before. Afraid that one day their worshipers—these <em>mortals</em>—would learn of the untold history of the world. The history of another race of immortals. They had rather weave the narrative than let it be told, even when they were the heroes of their story, even when it meant damning an innocent soul.</p><p>Mnemosyne rose to her feet shakily, a sort of stumble. The silent scream no longer painted on her features, but the stains still lingered. She shook her head, avoiding his gaze as if afraid to anger him. Had she read him in all that pain? Read the terrible things he had thought of her. He truly was a bastard. She deserved better. Tartarus should have been torture enough.</p><p>"What happened?"</p><p>"I only got fragments. Fractured ones at that."</p><p>"Why?" Triptolemus pressed. Mnemosyne flinched. Gods, he was impatient. But could you blame him? He softened his voice and tone as his continued. "Your ability to extract memories has always been flawless."</p><p>She flailed her arms as if to grasp something. Perhaps her thoughts. "This is different. Being in Tartarus, I can only read a being through a vessel. I have been using monsters all this while. Their minds are weak, easy to control. But it is that weakness that prevents them from being a solid enough pathway to the mind of a demigod, which is far better defended than that of a human."</p><p>"What do you propose then, dear sister?"</p><p>"If we capture one of them and if I had a stronger vessel…" her voice trailed off as she eyed him wearily.</p><p>"I'll do it."</p><p>"It will hurt, more than you can imagine." She held his gaze with concern. A similar concern to that he had seen on his mother's face a thousand times in this very chamber. He was tired of it. He could take care of himself. He always did.</p><p>"I don't care."</p><p>"I do." She stepped closer, trailing her knuckles across his cheek. Of course, he felt nothing. "It will drain you like no other. The creatures I use usually melt from the inside out. Their entire neural network fried in a matter of seconds."</p><p>He sighed, looked away then back, trying to form those foreign words. "I trust you with my life."</p><p>"I-"</p><p>"It's decided. I'll send word to capture one of the demigods alive. And then you will do what needs to be done." He said it with unyielding affirmation, leaving no room for argument.</p><hr/><p>"Alive!" Triptolemus raged at the twin Titans kneeling before him. "Weren't my instructions clear? Weren't they simple enough for you dimwits?"</p><p>"Apologies my lord," Pallas said impassively, his brother on the other hand, seething with anger.</p><p>"Apologies are not what I need," He growled. "I needed a demigod."</p><p>"We did as you told," Perses spat. "Your instructions were relayed, word for word. It was not our fault we weren't allowed to participate in the ambush."</p><p>Pallas shot his brother a look that said, <em>will you shut that big mouth of yours.</em></p><p>"You are not to be blamed, is that it?" Triptolemus drawled. "My generals are not to be held accountable when things go wrong. I wish I had known that earlier. Maybe then I wouldn't have wasted my time."</p><p>"Triptolemus," Mnemosyne's voice slithered into his mind, as she materialized behind the twins. "All is not lost. If what I have gathered from the girl's memories are true, they have fallen for the trap completely. This quest of theirs is of upmost importance to Hemitheopolis. That city does not relent—they do not know how to. We'll get another chance. And this time, we will not fail."</p><p>"You've been silent for days. Where have you been?"</p><p>Oh gods, he sounded like a wounded child. A pathetic one at that. Grateful that his generals could not hear this conversation, he waved them away.</p><p>"I've found them." she said softly, turning away the closer he came. What had they done? If any of them had laid a hand on her…</p><p>"They are interested. But truthfully, I do not know if to trust them. They may only be jumping at this opportunity because it is a way out of the pit. I would have done the same. It is up to you now to convince them of our cause."</p><p>"Hmm…send them through."</p><hr/><p>"You dare? You dare summon us?" Krios, Titan of Constellations, glared at him, eyes a star-spackled sea of darkness. Cold and desolate things that closer resembled the portal he had passed through rather than the night sky. Simple armor morphing into a ram's head atop his crown, curved horns, and all.</p><p>"And to send that traitorous whelp to fetch us," Hyperion, Titan of Light, roared, those fiery orbs flaring with temper. If there was an opposite to the endless darkness, this would be it. Maybe not cold but still as desolate. Still as malicious.</p><p>Triptolemus decided then and there that he did not have any love lost for his brothers. Those who had ruled instead of him and wasted the opportunity, who did not understand what it was to be a child of Gaea. The way they treated Mnemosyne was every indication of that. It was like looking at horrible reflections of his father.</p><p>"You will speak no harm of our sister," Triptolemus's voice low, dangerous. "You will do no harm, or it will be my wrath you face." His fingers were already reaching for his blade, pulling it from it's sheathe by an inch. That was enough. His brothers sensed it then, the power of Primordials, the power of the sky. Weary glances to his side only proved it. They knew that blade maybe as well as he did. A tense silence followed. As if the mountains and seas itself were waiting for a clash of Titans.</p><p>"We are only concerned," said Koios, his voice like song. Mnemosyne had warned him of Koios. Intelligence was his domain. Perhaps further reaching than any other. For intelligence could be found on all three planes of reality. "After all, Mnemosyne did side with the gods."</p><p>"And now she sides with us," this time he did not need reach for his blade. Something within him stirred and he could have sworn it take effect on his brothers. A challenge that required no words, just presence.</p><p>Iapetus having previously stood of to the side, was the only one that moved, the only one that did not engage with this foolish sparring of words. Triptolemus met his brother's eyes—no, those things had no right to be called eyes. Far worse than Krios's or Hyperion's. Swirling orbs of darkness. Of death incarnate. He came to a stop mere inches from Triptolemus's throne.</p><p>"Blood is thicker than water. We have all made mistakes, have we not?" Iapetus turned to the others. They ducked their heads in shame. All except Koios. It seemed there was some sort of hierarchy here. A chain of respect. Whether Koios was at the top of it or merely one who never bowed, Triptolemus could not be sure. He would bet on the latter.</p><p>"Then we shall proceed," Iapetus continued. "What is your plan, brother?"</p><p>"To avenge mother," holding Iapetus's gaze was harder than expected. Nerve-wracking in the strangest way, as if his life were on the line. A ridiculous notion. Or was it? "And the plan is Mnemosyne's, not mine."</p><p>"Traitorous bastard!" Hyperion launched his blazing, writhing anger in a column of fire—</p><p>Iapetus, with what seemed impossible speed, intercepted the blow with his spear. The weapon seemed to suck the heat out the room—the life.</p><p>When the blinding light waned, there was no longer fire. And then Krios, the damned oaf, tried to attack Iapetus, but was immediately held back by Pallas and Perses, who as his sworn guards, had been silently observing the meeting.</p><p>"Father," Perses grinned his greetings at Krios</p><p>"Damned fools!" He snarled and struggled against his twin sons.</p><p>"Enough!" Triptolemus roared, slamming his sword into the ground as he once had all those years ago. "I brought you all here to restore our glory and to avenge our mother. Yet here we are squabbling like children. She would be ashamed of us. We should be ashamed of ourselves. I find it hard to believe the lot of you once ruled the world—even if it were for a short insignificant period of history…Titans!" Triptolemus scoffed. "Does the word mean nothing to you? I died for that word. I died so that you could thrive. Is this how you repay my sacrifice?"</p><p>Koios observed the scene with a vicious glint. Always the schemer…Triptolemus shuddered at the thought.</p><p>"Our brother is right," Koios started. "Let us act <em>civil</em>, shall we?" A jab at them all, as if to say, <em>I am better than the lot of you</em>. Iapetus was the first to lower his spear. Then the twins released their father and Hyperion took a step back, readjusting his obnoxiously brilliant golden armor. "Good. Very good. Where were we?"</p><p>Triptolemus snapped his fingers and seven matching thrones sprouted from the earth, forming a circle. "Sit and we shall begin."</p><p>"I count seven of us here," Krios noted, anger still lingering in his voice and posture. He shot glare after glare at his sons. "Why are there are eight thrones?"</p><p>"Ah, of course…" Koios smiled. It seemed genuine enough, yet that discomfort still fluttered through him. "The four pillars have been restored."</p><p>Another titan emerged from behind Triptolemus.</p><p>"Atlas," Koios nodded respectfully. Even stranger. "Thank you for carrying our burden for all these years."</p><p>Atlas grinned and rolled his shoulders, "I would say it was my pleasure. But there was no pleasure in it, I assure you."</p><p>Mnemosyne had been right. With the four pillars of earth—his four brothers, Titans of the North, East, South and West restored, Atlas had been relieved of his burden of carrying the sky. Another invaluable ally. One that had experience leading Titan armies against the gods—though unsuccessfully. But there was no better teacher than failure. His mother had drilled that into him.</p><p>"Good," Triptolemus smiled grimly once they were all seated. "We have many battles ahead of us. A war to end all wars. But first we shall strike down the champions of the gods. Hemitheopolis will fall…and with it, every last demigod!"</p><hr/><p>Edited 30th April 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Do leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed the chapter</strong>
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  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. To Walk the Path Alone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks for the all the support. Especially those who have left kudos.</p><p>Here we go! Another Perlia chapter. I nearly rewrote every word in this chapter (It took hours upon hours). So hopefully you guys enjoy it.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thalia</p><p>
  <em>There is a city, Hemitheopolis…</em>
</p><p>Cyril's voice playing through her mind. Faint—nothing like the firm and raw tone she had grown to love. <em>Sail across the Corinthian Gulf.</em> She held on to it, his final instructions. It was all she could do to fight the guilt. The self-loathing. Maybe if she were strong, if she succeeded, it would dissipate—</p><p><em>It won't</em>, a voice in her head sneered, drowning out Cyril's. <em>You know why. </em>A suggestion rather than a question</p><p>Thalia tried to focus on Cyril's voice and his alone, but the harder she tried, the louder it roared. <em>It was your fault.</em></p><p>"No," Thalia whispered, lips trembling, hands shaking. A futile whisper.</p><p><em>You wanted to explore the city. Look around, </em>the voice taking form. It was her from that night, covered in blood, saliva and guts that dripped silently against the floorboards. Arms raised, it continued,<em> there is no one else to blame. And there is no one to absolve you-</em></p><p>A loud crash-</p><p>Thalia turned. Percy had knocked some items off the bedside table with a wild swing of his arm. She stole a glance back, the other her had vanished. She released a heavy breath having unknowingly held it.</p><p>It wasn't real, she repeated to herself as she rubbed at her tear-stained cheeks. What she had seen wasn't real. But that night was and everything that came after.</p><p>Thalia found her gaze drifting to Percy. At least she had done one thing right. She had worth. She had to believe that. His condition was improving. That much was clear. It was only hours ago when his entire body was spasming. Fighting the fever, the healer had explained.</p><p>Minutes passed as she sat on that stool…hours. Her eyelids drooped and so did her head. When she jerked awake, her eyes landed on a scroll of paper that had been knocked off by Percy. It was the map she had paid for.</p><p>Thalia retrieved it, fingers fumbling to untie the piece of red string that held it together. Once freed, she unrolled it across the bed, just beside Percy's legs. She marveled at it for a moment. Not the inch-perfect illustrations, but the sheer size of the mainland. A dauntingly beautiful thing that haunted and taunted her. There was so much to see, to learn, to explore. But it was that unending curiosity that had ended her world.</p><p>Tentatively, she traced a finger along the routes she had so often studied during her lessons. An abrupt pang of sorrow hit her. As abrupt as the end of the road that led to Sparta.</p><p>Not as complete a map as Thalia hoped. She missed it with every waking moment, her home. Then again, deep down she knew it would never be home again, not without him. Hell, she didn't even know if it still stood. If it had escaped the inevitable.</p><p>Shaking away her thoughts, Thalia traced the path to Corinth and across the gulf. Nothing. There was nothing but forest and plains. She scoured the map for the term <em>Hemitheopolis</em>. Still nothing. Cyril would have never lied to her. Hemitheopolis had to exist, even if she had never heard of it. It had to.</p><p>"Mother…ring…girl…demons," Percy mumbled inaudibly in his sleep. Thalia could only make out a couple words. She reached over and removed the now warm cloth from his forehead. Wringing it dry and soaking it in the bucket of cold water, she replaced it gently, careful not to spill any water on the map.</p><p>It was hard to look at him, harder still to look away. A broken thing in body and soul. She had seen the desolation in his dark yet brilliant eyes. Even now, his expression tortured with something deeper than pain. Did she look the same?</p><p>Hopefully, she did, because behind all that sorrow was a certain strength, she could not yet quite place. A strength that she would need if she were to carry on. Something unyielding and fierce.</p><p>He would make it. He had to. That was an oath she would not break. No one would die on her watch. Never again.</p><p>Thalia turned her attention back to the map, blinking away her tears. She was losing all semblance of control over her emotions. Something that had taken her years of training to master. Perhaps she had never truly mastered it.</p><p>Nauplia, Argos, Corinth, Megara, Athens, Thebes—they were all there, the city states of Greece. Yet, no Sparta, no Hemitheopolis. A home lost and one yet to be found.</p><p>The door creaked open and Maya, the healer, skirted in, a pouch of herbs clutched in both hands. She was a small, comely woman with rich brown skin, who from afar could be mistaken to be in her early thirties. A testament to her health. But from up-close, the weariness in her eyes and the wisdom she bore revealed that she was older than she seemed.</p><p>"I found them," she opened her pouch-full of blue fruit. "Elder berries. They'll break his fever." Seeing that Thalia was not convinced, Maya placed a hand on her shoulder. "He'll be back on his feet in no time. You just watch."</p><p>Thalia nodded and Maya went to work grinding the berries and other herbs with her mortar and pestle. She leaned over, taking a good look at the map.</p><p>"Your path takes you to Corinth," the healer noted.</p><p>"It does," Thalia answered, perhaps too quickly. A half-truth. Not because she didn't trust Maya—she did, after all Maya had risked her own neck by breaking curfew twice—but because she didn't see how the truth changed anything. Besides, one could never be too careful.</p><p>There was a subtle shift in Maya's expression, gone before Thalia could place it, as she gathered the crushed mixture of herbs into a leave and folded it neatly into a pellet. Thalia gathered the map and moved it to make way for Maya.</p><p>Percy was still mumbling incoherently. Maya shook him awake, careful to avoid aggravating his injuries. His eyes snapped open and shot around the room in a delirious haze before they fell on Thalia, a sort of recognition glazing across them. Then it was gone, his eyelids heavy, fluttering. Awake yet not. A state of in-between</p><p>Maya slid her hand under his head, lifting it slightly. That small movement was all it took to bring her back to that night, the fragility of it. Suddenly it was Cyril on that bed and her hands cradling him.</p><p>"Chew. Don't swallow," Maya's voice piercing the illusion. She had slipped the pellet of herbs through his lips. Percy obliged.</p><p>"Stay with him," Maya turned to her, "The sun has risen. I have other patients to tend to at the infirmary. If his fever gets worse-" she pointed at the mortar full of herbs, "-give him another pellet. One more, that's all. His body won't be able to handle any more than that. Too much elderberry can be extremely toxic to the human body."</p><p>Thalia raised her brows in alarm.</p><p>"I said, too much," Maya emphasized. "Don't worry. He's strong. You should rest to if you are to travel."</p><p>Thalia nodded, having no intention at all to sleep. Not when death hung over Percy. She could think of nothing worse than waking to more blood on her hands. If things were to go wrong, she would be there trying her damnedest to stop it.</p><p>But as she watched him, his breathing turned steady and strong. No longer fidgeting and mumbling, he looked almost…peaceful. Even his expressions softened, the hollowness in them fading.</p><p>A wave of exhaustion washed over her, then one of darkness.</p><hr/><p>Percy</p><p>The first thing that hit Percy when he woke was how weak he felt. Like he had been laid out in the scorching sun, to shrivel up and die. The second, was that there was a weight on his knees, not too heavy to be uncomfortable.</p><p>He raised his head and a cloth slipped of his forehead-</p><p>Thalia. She was real. The girl who'd saved him.</p><p>She had fallen asleep on a stool, her figure slumped forward, head and arms resting across his legs. There was no way that was comfortable.</p><p>"Thalia," Percy croaked, his throat raw, burning with something more than dehydration. A sour-sweet tang. He called her again, and this time she jolted awake, shifting her weight off him as she rubbed her back in discomfort.</p><p>"Are you alright?" Percy asked</p><p>"Am <em>I</em> alright?" she said incredulously. "You nearly died. You were bleeding out in my arms." Something in her tone changed with the last sentence. As if she were not speaking about him alone.</p><p>"I'm sorry," he breathed. There was nothing else he could say or do, his thoughts elsewhere. Oh gods, he'd not been there for his mother. She had died alone, bleeding out on stone cold tiles. She deserved better. She deserved to live.</p><p>They sat there in heavy silence, both haunted by ghosts of the past.</p><p>Thalia flicked her gaze to the door then back. "It's dark. We've been here too long. You and I have been pursued by monsters all this time. Who's to say they'll stop now? We can't put more people at risk."</p><p>"You're right," Percy propped himself up with his elbows. Enough was enough. If death were hell-bent on following him, he would walk that path alone. "Where will you be heading?"</p><p>Through lowered lashes, her voice unsure, "I thought that maybe we could travel together."</p><p><em>Oh.</em> It made sense he supposed. They were both being pursued. But he could not help but feel like he'd be more of a burden then a help.</p><p>"I…" Percy's voice trailed off as he searched for the right words.</p><p>"You, what?" she scowled. From soft to vicious in a heartbeat. "You're in no condition to be travelling alone. I meant what I said. You're not dying on my watch."</p><p>The memory was faint, like most his memories of the past few days, or had it been weeks. A part of him wanted to argue that if they travelled separately, it wouldn't be her watch he died on. But he remembered it. How broken she had sounded. Perhaps she needed the company. Hell, he did. And truth be told, he could not deny her request. Not after what she had done for him. It was the least he could do.</p><p>"Where to?"</p><p>"Corinth," Thalia answered, biting her lower lip in deep thought. Just like that, soft again-</p><p>"Wait. What did you say?"</p><p>"Corinth."</p><p><em>Corinth,</em> he mouthed. There it was again. Where had he heard it before?</p><p>"Percy,"</p><p>"Hmm?"</p><p>"When I first asked you where you were heading, you told me your mother asked you to flee your village." Percy nodded, not quite sure where she was going with this. "Did she give you any other instructions. A destination maybe."</p><p>Percy wracked through his mind, a jumbled mess of fading memories that pulsated through him.</p><p>
  <em>Cross the Corinthian Gulf…</em>
</p><p>His mother's voice muffled as if she were underwater. He reached for it, but she was already gone.</p><p>"Percy?" Thalia pressed.</p><p>"She told me to cross the Corinthian Gulf. That's all I can remember."</p><p>Something like relieve washed over Thalia. "Believe it or not, you're stuck with me," a half-smile on her part. "Somehow or rather, we both have the same destination. Hemitheopolis." She said the word with such infectious hope.</p><p>"I've never heard of it."</p><p>"Neither had I, not before…" Her smile fading along with her hope. Thalia it seemed, much like him, carried such sorrow in her heart. Percy chose not to pry. Sometimes…sometimes it was better to be left alone. Thalia would share her story in due time. When she felt comfortable enough to do so.</p><p>"To Hemitheopolis, then." He reached out a hand.</p><p>"To Hemitheopolis," she echoed, fingers interlacing as she pulled him out of bed.</p><hr/><p>They had barely made it ten feet when they were stopped. A lady stood before them; arms raised. "I know where the two of you are going. I forbid it. That place only brings one thing. Death. Inexorable and irrevocable."</p><p>Percy and Thalia exchanged confused glances.</p><p>"What do you mean, Maya?" Thalia asked. "We have to. We have nowhere else to go."</p><p>"There's always a choice. Go somewhere else. Anywhere else." She rattled on in exasperation—choking back tears.</p><p>"I'm sorry." Thalia started. "But we're going. With or without your blessing. It was my…father's final request."</p><p>"My mother's too," Percy added, standing his ground.</p><p>The lady, Maya, stood there, fists clenched and shaking as she looked to the ground. After a long moment, she wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hands before facing them again.</p><p>"Come back in the house at least. Just for a moment. Let me explain."</p><p>So, she was his healer. He probably should have deduced the fact earlier. "Thank you for everything. But we must go now. We don't want to put you or the city in any further danger."</p><p>He was probably not making any sense to her but then again so was she.</p><p>"It'll be quick. Wouldn't it be nice to have some supplies for the road? Besides, I need to change your dressings."</p><p>The proposition was highly tempting. As far as Percy was concerned, it seemed to be the right choice. But he no longer travelled alone. He had a companion, one that had already saved his life twice. <em>Bless her.</em></p><p>Percy looked to Thalia for guidance. She was nervously fidgeting with her necklace, twirling it between her fingers. "Alright, but it'll have to be quick."</p><p>They returned to the house, Maya insisting to support Percy while they walked.</p><p>"For as long as you are my patient, I expect you to obey my instructions. No whining, no whingeing."</p><p>Percy glanced over Maya's shoulder and could see the smirk forming on Thalia's lips. He mouthed, "She's <em>crazy</em>."</p><p>"I <em>know"</em> she replied silently.</p><p>Once they arrived, Percy was immediately sat down onto the stool, quite forcibly he might add. Maya then left to gather whatever it was she needed. Thalia sat opposite him on the bed. When Maya returned, she instructed him to lift off his tunic.</p><p>Percy had never felt more exposed in that moment. Regardless of the fact that his entire torso was wrapped in bandages. A foolish thought of course, seeing that Maya and Thalia had probably seen much worse than his wounds. Thalia having sensed his discomfort, kept her electric blue eyes to his. He was infinitely grateful for it.</p><p>He jolted forward when Maya's cool hands first touched his skin. He's entire back, raw. She peeled away the bandages expertly and swathed an ointment over his wounds with a brush. It stung like hell and clenching his fist was all he could do to hold back a scream, his nails digging into flesh.</p><p>"I had a son," Maya whispered. "I sent him to Hemitheopolis when he turned twelve, just like his father asked. I didn't see him for years. Not until they returned his body to me." She was struggling to hold back her tears. Percy heard it in her voice.</p><p>"I know there's nothing I can say to ease your pain. Not even in the slightest. But I'm sorry for your loss." The weight of her grief was a suffocating thing, pressing down onto his shoulders then lungs. Was this what the world had come to. A broken world filled with broken people. His entire village, Thalia and now Maya. Families being ripped apart mercilessly.</p><p>"A parent should never have to watch their children die." her sniffling turning into splintered sobs.</p><p>"Nor a child their parent," Thalia echoed, that haunted look returning vividly.</p><p>"They told me he died a hero. I didn't want a hero. I wanted my son! I wanted him <em>alive</em>! And I couldn't help but blame him a little. He ignored my warnings. I told him what entailed the life of a demigod. A life of death; but he brushed them away, all heroic. Then he died, didn't he? And I hated myself for blaming him…" She took a heavy breath, stepping away now that she was done with Percy's back.</p><p>"A <em>Demigod?" </em>Thalia asked, flicking her eyes between them both.</p><p>Percy took a step back, those faded memories of his slowly seeping into the forefront of his mind. Colors dripping down, forming shapes then images. His mother. Her sad but beautiful smile as she said her final words. <em>I'm sorry.</em></p><p>And when the image of her shoved him, he wanted nothing more than to feel her touch. A mother's final sacrifice, only one of the many for her beloved son. He should have done more. He should have done something. Anything. He had been a useless fool riddled with fear.</p><p><em>Demigod</em>, his mind once again reeling at the revelation, rewinding his memories back to those words.</p><p>
  <em>The creatures came here for you. Because of who you are.</em>
</p><p>Was that truly the secret she had kept from him. Ground-shattering and life-altering.</p><p>Him, a demigod. There was no awe or pride in the statement. Just a dread that honed him onto his failures. Within his veins, ran the power of the gods and still he had failed all those people.</p><p>Percy stole a glance at Thalia, her eyebrows knitted, nose wrinkled as she too came into conflict with the revelation. All the wonder and despair balled up into one word.</p><p>
  <em>Demigod.</em>
</p><p>"They're real?" Thalia asked. "I thought them the stuff of legend. Stories passed from generations past. And now you're telling me there's a whole city of them."</p><p>"Why do you think you've never seen or met one? They along with their famed stronghold have nearly been forgotten. There was a time where mere mention of their name inspired awe and courage. They were a golden standard to look up to. The <em>mighty</em> Hemitheopolis." Maya's voice laced with bitterness. "Of course, the city had never been found which only added to the legend. Not just the mighty but also the mysterious. Back in the old days, when I was still a child, the warring city states of Greece had sent out expeditions upon expeditions of men to locate it. They all thought that the first one to ally themselves with Hemitheopolis would rule Greece for all of time. Of course, only a select few knew they were demigods or where they were located."</p><p>"How did they become so famed? It sounds like they rivalled Athens, even Sparta" Thalia's face lighting up with curiosity or fascination. Perhaps, both.</p><p>"Rivalled. No—surpassed. They were above the petty squabbles of men, only appearing when needed. They had one mandate and one mandate only…to save lives. You would hear tales of Hemitheopolian warriors saving people from monsters, from other people even, pouring in from all corners of Greece. Usually appearing in small groups that were said to be deadlier than a squadron of soldiers. They were only seen once, in what could be assumed as their full force. Or at least that's what the tales from Corinth say."</p><p>"Sorry to interrupt," Percy said. "But it just doesn't make sense. How did no one ever find Hemitheopolis? Especially since our parents-" Percy gestured to Thalia and himself "-knew its location"</p><p>"We parents know it's general location. It has always been the way things were. But it is impossible for mortals to find yet alone enter the city. I don't know why or how. I wish that I did. Then maybe I could have visited my son. Maybe I could have seen him smile one last time."</p><p>A heavy silence followed as Maya seemed lost within herself. Percy could not help but feel a sort of stirring in the pit of his stomach. A place where they would not be a danger to others. Perhaps he would not have to run for the rest of his life. Perhaps he need not walk the path alone.</p><p>Percy slid close to Thalia and muttered under his breath. "No more running. Somewhere we belong, somewhere safe."</p><p>"You aren't and you won't ever be," Maya said, jaw clenched in anger—not directed at them but at everything else. "That's all the Gods are good for. They appear, tell you they love you, tell you to send your child to death at the young ripe age of twelve <em>then</em> they leave, never to return again."</p><p>Percy shrank back from her, so did Thalia. Rage rolled of her in waves—all-consuming waves. After a time, they receded and she collapsed onto her bed looking drained, emotionally, and physically.</p><p>"I apologize for the outburst," Maya sighed. "Please take your supplies and go. I wish you well. Your lives won't be easy, but I beg of you, <em>survive</em>. Do it for my son, so his sacrifice meant something."</p><p>Thalia approached her and gathered her into a hug. "We will."</p><p>Percy squeezed Maya's shoulder and reached for the satchel full of supplies that she had packed during her tale. "Thank you for everything. We will always remember this. The next time I'm on death's door, I hope you'll be there."</p><p>She stood up and smiled at him. A sad but beautiful one, just like his mother's. "You remind me so much of him<em>. </em>Both of you do. So ready to live, to change this world for the better." Percy embraced her to. A tear rolled down his cheek. He let it fall as he released the hug, immediately missing the comfort.</p><p>"We'll try," Percy said.</p><p>"And we'll never stop trying." Thalia added. They made their way out, thanking Maya all the way to the door. There they stood, two demigods against the world, ready to face the great unknown. Heroes in their own right. Heroes for surviving what they had survived, and heroes for what they were yet to accomplish.</p><hr/><p>Edited 30th April 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Sadly, the Perlia has ended for this chapter. I know a tragedy. They'll be back in Chapter 14.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Do leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed the chapter</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I'd really appreciate it</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The Ghosts that Haunt Us</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Buckle in because this is gonna be a long chapter.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe</p><p>Chloe worked her way through the infirmary. What was once a joyful place of recovery filled with laughter and smiles and most of all peace, had become a dark dreary chamber that seemed to drain the life from one's body. It only made worse what already ailed them. The wounded, the dying, the heroes. They were littered across the space, some on beds, others on blankets spread across the stone tiles. There was barely any space to move around yet move around they did—the healers of Hemitheopolis—what was left of them, that is. Many had been sent to secure the borders, some lay here, others…others had fallen.</p><p>Chloe could not remember when last, she had left the infirmary. Had it been hours or days? And the other healers, those the Aeropagus deemed too young to be sent out, they too had stayed with her all this time. They were strong—stronger than her for enduring this, for witnessing such horrors and still smiling as they danced from one patient to another. But their eyes betrayed them, the sheer weight of their circumstances, the hopelessness.</p><p>Far too young for all this death and suffering. Yet that was the way it had always been…</p><hr/><p>
  <em>5 Years Ago</em>
</p><p>Chloe could not breathe. No matter how she struggled for air, how she seemed to drink it in, it never seemed to reach her lungs. All she knew was that their wagon had flipped over and that wrapped in her hand was a smaller one that wasn't moving.</p><p>
  <em>No! No, no, no. Not her. Please not her.</em>
</p><p>Her heart thumping louder and harder, as though hammering her lungs to work. They didn't. And she did not know in that moment if it was truly that immense weight on her chest that caused it or the weight of something else altogether. Something not quite tangible-</p><p>"Ahhhhh!" A blood curdling scream resonated through the air, muffled by the wooden walls.</p><p>It had to have come from the chariot driver. What could have elicited such a reaction? What horrors lay out there to draw such primal emotions from a member of the Athenian Guard. Nothing worse than the potential horror of those delicate, still fingers in hers-</p><p>Movement. Nothing more than a twitch. But it was everything to her—<em>everything</em>. Suddenly breathing didn't seem quite as impossible. Annabeth was alive. In that moment, Chloe didn't care for what lay in wait for them, didn't care that there was a dead man sprawled atop her or that they had failed to reach Hemitheopolis. Annabeth was alive. They were together. It was all that mattered-</p><p>The groaning of wood filled her ears as the roof of their sanctuary—formerly the bottom of their wagon caved in, the wooden walls seemingly closing in on her, threatening to once again suffocate what breath she had found in her comfort.</p><p>The groaning stopped, and so did the ever-approaching darkness of those warped planks that were a feather's drop away from succumbing to the pressure.</p><p>Perhaps whatever it was on the other side had left. Perhaps their bloodlust had be satiated. Perhaps the gods had answered her prayers. Surely so, for Annabeth's fingers still moved in hers. Chloe wished for nothing more than to turn to Annabeth, but she was well and truly pinned-</p><p><em>Skr!</em> A crunching snap, the bare skin on her arms and face bathed with a scattering of dust and fragments. Blinking away the sediment, her eyes stinging, she saw what caused her disposition. An ever-widening hole in the surface. More accurately, the eerily long and wrinkly pale fingers that gripped its edges, peeling away the solid wood. Past it…</p><p>The owner of those dastardly things. Chloe had never seen anything look so human yet not. A fiendish amalgamation of human features that in itself seemed a violation of nature. Soulless dark orbs that stood out vividly against their icy blue skin. Skin that curled back to reveal claws and fangs covered in blood. Blood that dripped on her as it leaned in.</p><p>Chloe closed her eyes and turned away, squeezing Annabeth's hand gently. This was it—the end. It didn't matter now if she could breathe or not. All that mattered was that the gods heard her prayer. They would grant her dying wish. They had to.</p><p>
  <em>Let Annabeth live. Protect her. Please, I beg this of you. This and nothing else.</em>
</p><p>It was not pain that greeted her but warmth. Warmth of a sticky substance spurting across her face. <em>Blood</em>. Hesitant and shaking, Chloe peaked a glimpse that sent her guts hurling. The creature's face was pressed to the dead guard's neck, incisors churning, throat bobbing as it feasted on flesh and blood. Chloe could not stop the whimper that slipped from her lips. Its head snapped towards her, eyes and jaws widening with hunger…with desire.</p><p>
  <em>Protect her-</em>
</p><p>Chloe was doused with another dose of blood, this time the creature's as its head flew clean of its shoulders. Now the weight of two dead bodies on her.</p><p>"Guys!" A boyish voice called. "Survivors." Chloe lay there, hands pinned and eyes squeezed shut to prevent the blood from getting in her eyes, infinitely grateful to hear a human voice.</p><p>The shuffling of feet then another voice, this time a girl. "On three,"</p><p>"One…Two…Three!" a chorus of voices echoing after the girl. A muted thud then the removal of the weight upon her chest. Before she knew it, she was pulled gently across the loam and propped against a rough surface. Chloe would have made an attempt to wipe at her face, but her arms refused to respond, feeling like they were alight with a hundred little flames.</p><p>As if reading her thoughts, the pair of hands moved from her shoulders to her face, cupping it with a nervous fragility and brushing its thumbs across her skin. Chloe blinked and found herself face to face with the most startling of blue eyes. They were corn-blue like the sky but within them rays of light spiraled out. Rays of warmth that somehow spoke to her.</p><p>"Are you alright?" the boy asked with furrowed brows, voice echoing what his eyes already implied as he knelt beside her.</p><p>Chloe nodded, lips parting slightly in a failed attempt to find her voice. Breathing had now become easy, yet it did not stop the thundering in her chest. Death had stalked her, had brought her to the edge and in that moment, she had thought she had accepted it. That everything would be okay. It was easy to feel that way when all hope was lost, but now she realised she had a lot more to live for. It should never be okay for someone her age to feel that way, to embrace the end. That was why she had to make it to Hemitheopolis. To learn the arts of healing like she had always dreamt. She would be the shield between the realms of life and death-</p><p><em>Annabeth</em>. Where was she? Chloe made to stand but the boy held her gaze along with her shoulders.</p><p>"Your friend is fine." He shuffled aside and gestured behind him, "There."</p><p>And there she was leaning against another tree, surrounded by two others who were similarly dressed as the boy.</p><p>"Annabeth," Chloe called, this time her voice returning to her in full force, hopeful even. She knew why. Annabeth was her strength as she was hers.</p><p>Annabeth turned to her slowly and nodded, her eyes nothing like they were before. A sort of haunted hollowness that weighed heavy on Chloe's heart. Annabeth had seen it. What those creatures had done. She should have shielded her then. In that way Chloe had failed in her promise. Both to her father and herself.</p><p>Chloe took a deep breath and tore her eyes from Annabeth's. A strange group this was. A group of heavily armed and armored children. Strange enough that Chloe was sure they were from Hemitheopolis. That she had found her people.</p><p>The boy offered her his hand and with a boyish grin asked, "I'm Damian, you are?"</p><p>"Chloe," she said rather shyly. "My name is Chloe." He helped her to her feet and released her hand, which now had stopped its incessant prickling.</p><p>Damian was the youngest of them—younger than her maybe. His leather armor making him seem larger than he was, making it seem the sword he held befit him. Perhaps it did, for surely the blood that caked it was proof enough.</p><p>"Thaddeus," the only girl of the bunch said. "The other girl's alright too. Just shaken."</p><p>She was one of the two who were examining Annabeth. Beside her a bronze hammer that complimented her golden complexion. It made sense Chloe supposed, seeing the sheer size of her arms and her athletic build that didn't at all match her soft features. The other was an olive-skinned boy that sported a clean trim. He had the sharpest of features, high cheekbones, and all. But like the girl there was a softness to him. His weapon of choice was a bow, slung across his shoulders.</p><p>The last of the group, the one they called Thaddeus was clearly their leader. Or at least as close to it as this group had. He was tall and lanky, his features obscured by wild brown curls. He had his head hung low, leaning his weight on his sword as if considering his next instructions.</p><p>"Thaddeus," the girl pressed again.</p><p>"This is a trap," he whispered.</p><p>"How so?" the boy with the bow asked, Theron.</p><p>"You remember the tracks, how there were a whole horde of them." Thaddeus finally lifting his head, flicking his gaze between his companions.</p><p>"They could be heading for Pagai," Lily suggested. "Or any of the other coastal villages. Perhaps these three had pulled away from the rest, having found targets"</p><p>"Perhaps," Thaddeus scratched his chin. "Or perhaps it is a trap. Either way we need to start moving."</p><p>"What about the girls?" Lily asked.</p><p>"What about them?"</p><p>"We can't leave them." Damian interjected.</p><p>"No, of course not. They're demigods." Thaddeus said it simply as he looked to her for confirmation.</p><p>"We were on our way to Hemitheopolis." Chloe said. "Thank you for saving us." She added with a sweeping glance at the four of them.</p><p>"No need to thank us," Damian said smiling wildly. "We travel together now. Which means we protect each other."</p><p>"He's right," Theron gave Damian an approving look and with Lily, helped Annabeth to her feet.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>Present Day</em>
</p><p>It was that declaration that dropped Chloe back into the infirmary.</p><p><em>He's right</em>.</p><p>Theron's voice a faint memory at most. A sort of self-defense mechanism that she wished worked more often. But more often or not, it didn't. She had watched that scene replay itself so many times—in both dream and reality.</p><p>
  <em>He's right.</em>
</p><p>Words that had meant to be optimistic. Words that had meant to bring them all together as one. But many people had been right that day. Thaddeus being one of them. And so, the trap was sprung.</p><p>Chloe remembered every detail. Like she said, she had replayed it too often. Annabeth's screams, the whirling duo of Thaddeus and Lily, Damian throwing himself in front of her, Theron….</p><p>There had been six of them then—the day it all began and now here she stood the last one left in Hemitheopolis. The others on deadly quests of their own.</p><p>A part of her wished that day had never come to pass. Perhaps if she had not been then and there, things might have worked out differently. Perhaps the world would have been a better one. A foolish thought of course. Not because one moment could not change the fate of the world—it could. But because she could not imagine a life without Damian.</p><p>Him who had shown her such kindness since the moment they met. Their first contact charged with such compassion that when his hand had left her face, she felt an ache at the loss—at the space drawn between them. Perhaps it was a manifestation of how she had grown to love him. The small skeptical part of her that had always kept her grounded would argue so. That surely, she had not felt so strongly the first time they met. Yet stranger things had happened. After all, the gods were real which meant the myths were real.</p><p>Chloe stiffened as the low brassy tone of the Cornucopia rumbled through the chamber. She waited a moment. One sounding of the Cornucopia meant returning Hemitheopolians. Two something entirely different.</p><p>Could it be? Could it really be him? Hope fluttered in her chest, swelling to a triumph-</p><p>But why would they be back so early? Unless…</p><p>No. Some thoughts were never meant to see the light of day. She threw down the bowl of herbal paste she was carrying and raced out the doors.</p><hr/><p>Annabeth</p><p>The journey back was difficult in more ways than one. Damian had yet to speak since the battle, since…</p><p>Of them all, it was Damian who knew Dorian the longest. The polemarch had trained him since he was merely a child.</p><p>They took the long way around, this time circling the perimeter of the Terata Forest to find the shortest possible route through. They had almost reached Pagai, before the trees thinned enough that the wagon they now rode with, courtesy of Alexo, could make the trip.</p><p>Still it was perilous. It was the way of the forest. Twice they had been ambushed by Cercopes. Fortunately for them, the attacks were not coordinated and their targets singular. Both times, Damian had leapt off his mare and swiftly disposed of the enemy with expert precision, every slice of his fueled by fury. Of course, he sustained injuries of his own, yet he didn't seem to care. Annabeth had tried getting through to him. To treat his wounds with the basic methods of disinfection Chloe had thought her. But he refused, even when she added that it was what Chloe would have wanted.</p><p>Annabeth dropped the matter, afraid to push him in this state. There was a lifelessness to him. A strange kind of lifelessness that rather than being an extinguished flame, was one that blazed inward. And whatever she did, or whatever he did, would only feed it.</p><p>It was up to Chloe now. Somehow or rather, it always came to that.</p><p>As they broke through the trees, Hemitheopolis materialized in the horizon. Its walls rising from sea to sky—a gateway of sorts. A gateway to home. When they reached it, their return was signaled and so parted the golden gates.</p><p>They were almost immediately set upon by a gathering of Hemitheopolians. Annabeth tried to wave them away, but they had already swarmed the wagon.</p><p>"Is it over?"</p><p>"Has the enemy been defeated?"</p><p>"Is the age of peace once again upon us?"</p><p>Query after query. Hopeful voices that seemed to fade as they noticed the expression she wore, the roars of triumph failing. All Annabeth could do was stand there as the crowd parted, as they too understood what it is that had been lost. The shroud they had all chosen to ignore in their fervor.</p><p>But through the parting crowd hurtled a figure.</p><p>"Chloe?"</p><p>Chloe looked up at her, panting heavily from her sprint, "You're alive—thank the Gods. Where's Damian?"</p><p>Annabeth looked to her side where Damian should have been, but he was gone. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed his position. He had climbed into the wagon and was now crouched beside Dorian's body, staring endlessly at the shroud. He was so completely still and pale, that an image of Dorian laying in the grass flashed through her mind.</p><p>Shaking it away, Annabeth slid off her horse and pulled Chloe into her arms, wincing from the pressure on her ribs. Annabeth did not particularly care. The comfort of her presence was enough.</p><p>"Go to him. He needs you now more than ever." Annabeth whispered in her ear.</p><p>Chloe pulled away and nodded, her eyes lined with tears. She, like the others, had spotted the shroud.</p><p><em>How about you? </em>Her eyes seemed to say.</p><p>"I'll bring the news to the Archon."</p><p>Chloe pulled her in once again before letting go. Then, full of purpose, she glided past her, towards Damian and offered her hand. And as her fingers wrapped around his, he moved, as if reanimated. He turned to her then immediately turned away, as if the weight of her gaze was too much for him. As if he didn't deserve her love. Annabeth didn't blame him. She sometimes felt the same. Yet his hand stayed in Chloe's and after a moment he followed her as she brought him away.</p><hr/><p>It had been minutes since the Archon last spoke to her. Since he had lurched backward and stumbled into his seat like he had been shot by an arrow. Since she'd try to rush forward to help him but was stopped with a raised hand. She had never seen him look like this. Always the bastion of strength of their city.</p><p>He had mumbled many things in that hollow chamber. Things she wished she could turn her ears away from. It did not seem right, an invasion of one's self. One thing was clear, Dorian meant more to him than Annabeth had ever imagined. A friendship bathed in blood and death and history. Almost thirty years of it. Even now, Annabeth could think of nothing worse than losing Chloe or Damian. What would that pain feel like after living through their entire lives together? Could it be worse.</p><p>More minutes of silence drifted by and Annabeth was starting to feel dizzy from exhaustion when the Archon spoke. When she raised her head, he was standing tall once again, the picture of strength, not even an inch of weariness showing. As if he had simply chosen to eliminate his pain. If only she could do the same.</p><p>"We don't have the men to spare." He said, scepter in hand.</p><p>"Thebes's promise still stands."</p><p>"It does. Yet we do not know what their promise entails. A battalion of men will not be enough. We will need an army. Still it might not be enough. Not with what you have described. I will send word to Megara as well. It's better they have time to mobilize their forces." A pause on his part, as if considering whether his next instructions were wise. "I don't want to ask this of you-"</p><p>"It is my honour," Annabeth added quickly.</p><p>"And it is my burden," the weariness from earlier flickering across his features. "It seems all I do is send my people to their deaths." Annabeth did not know what to say to that. Nothing she could say would console him. Not with all he had been through. Not when what he said was technically the truth.</p><p>"Still…" Hector continued. "It must be done and there are few I trust more than you." Words she had always wanted to hear. Yet a hollow victory in these times. "I need you to return to the city-states. It won't be easy to convince them to abandon their defense. Let us pray that there is still honor among men."</p><p>"When do I leave?"</p><p>"Not so soon. Let us mourn and regroup. The funeral will be held tonight…so will the crowning of his successor. We'll need to inform the rest of the Aeropagus of what's transpired. What's left of them, that is." His voice bitter and sad all at once, once again thinking of all the people he had sent to their deaths.</p><p>"Help me make the arrangements, will you?"</p><p>"I will," Annabeth carved a low bow. She turned on her heels but was stopped by his voice.</p><p>"And, Annabeth," she turned to find that he had dropped all pretenses. Looking older than he had ever seemed. A man tired of life and the sorrows that came with it. "Thank you for looking out for my son. Where is he now?"</p><hr/><p>Chloe</p><p>Carefully, Chloe cleansed Damian's wounds. Any longer and they would have gotten infected. She would have chided him if she weren't herself trembling. She had never been more afraid because she had never seen him like this. Never. Damian had always been so alive, even in his darkest moments when she'd find him brooding there was a fire behind it. A warmth.</p><p>And now for the first time, when she looked into those beautiful eyes, those rays had darkened beyond the point of recognition. Cold, hard lines devoid of happiness.</p><p>It was only when she was done treating his wounds, did she stare down her fear and confront him. His returning stare, empty.</p><p>"Damian," she whispered. Still he did not move, did not speak.</p><p>She rested her palms against his cheeks, cupping his face as he had the first time they met.</p><p>"Damian, please…come to back to me," her voice cracking. Perhaps it was the desperation in her voice or the touch of her skin, but something changed. The light returned to him as he burst into large painful sobs. The kind that caused one's entire being to shudder.</p><p>Chloe threw her arms around him and buried her head against his chest.</p><p>"I'm here. I will always be here." She said as she rubbed soothing circles on his back.</p><p>And so that was how they stood for a long time. It hurt in a way she couldn't quite explain. Seeing him cry and pour out his soul. She only wished that along with the shudders she absorbed with her embrace, was the pain. That somehow, she was helping him get through this.</p><p>"It's my fault," Damian managed between choked sobs. "He d-died saving me."</p><p>Chloe pulled away just enough to maneuver herself so that she was once again cradling his face, her thumbs brushing away his tears. "Listen to me. It wasn't your fault. You did not ask Dorian to save you. It was his choice. Do not take that away from him. Do not cheapen his sacrifice. Honor it and rise again. Falling is acceptable, inevitable even, but staying down is not."</p><p>Damian eyes danced frantically across the room as if searching for a reason to deny himself his absolution. Chloe did not allow it to continue, crashing her lips against his. She let it speak for her. Convey what it was she felt in this moment. That she loved him more than anything and that when they were apart all she felt was fear and now more than ever, she needed him to be strong if not for himself, at least for her.</p><hr/><p>Damian</p><p>Chloe's touch broke the dam, releasing waves of pent-up emotions. Emotions he had stifled since Dorian's death. Sorrow, guilt and so much more. And just when he felt he would be dragged beneath the surface and swept away, she held him in her arms, forming a new wall. One of protection rather than imprisonment. One that radiated warmth and safety.</p><p>And in that short moment she pulled away, even the new wall threatened to crumble. But then she kissed him, sealing the wall. Sealing it so that it would never be broken again. A sort of magical barrier akin to that of Hemitheopolis.</p><p>They fell to the bed as they held their kiss.</p><p>A feigned cough revealed his father, who was smiling sadly. "Am I interrupting?"</p><p>"No. Nope. No. I was just leaving" Chloe stumbled over her words, blushing furiously as she straightened her clothes.</p><p>"Stay," Damian chimed in, "Please." He slipped his fingers between hers and squeezed.</p><p>His father made no comment as he moved a stool over to sit by them. "Damian…How are you?"</p><p>"Not good, but this-" Damian gestured at them both, "-this helps. Dorian wanted me to tell you he died with honor. That you were his brother in life and in death."</p><p>His father ducked his head, but he could have sworn he had seen a tear. "Of course, he did. The bastard knew nothing but honor. It coursed through his veins. Ever the hero yet never claiming to be. He will be missed. By those he loved and the people of this city. None of us would be standing here if it weren't for him."</p><p>"I wouldn't." Damian added bitterly. Chloe shot him a pained glance.</p><p>"I know." His father said, looking him straight in the eyes. "He chose in that moment what he felt was best. A noble cause, hmm?"</p><p>Everything his father said echoed Chloe's sentiments. It helped, he supposed. But words alone could not right this wrong. He'd have to earn it.</p><p>"He always believed in you," His father added as though reading his mind. "Now we rest and mourn…then we pick up the pieces and forge ourselves anew. That is all we can do for this is only the beginning."</p><p>"I will, father."</p><p>"Then rest well, my boy. The funeral is tonight. We will lay to rest our Polemarch, but another will be chosen." He said with a finality, rising from his stool as if he could not leave quickly enough. Damian suspected why. He saw the tinge of red in his father's eyes.</p><p>"Father," Damian asked. "May I have a word with you in private?" He turned to Chloe and whispered, "Just for a moment."</p><p>He slid his hand out of hers, immediately missing the contact. Gods, how had he survived without her for so long.</p><p>"Of course," His father answered. "Walk me out, won't you? I could use the company"</p><p>As they slipped out of his room, they walked in silence till they arrived at the altar, kneeling, and offering a quick prayer.</p><p>"I'm proud of you," His father broke the silence. "I hope you know that. I've said it before but a part of me thinks I have not done enough. It's hard enough being a single parent; I had to be a father to an entire city as well. Yet, I have come to realise that those were always just excuses. Perhaps I hadn't really tried. Your mother would be inclined to agree. She'd be screaming furiously at me now. Some nights I swear I hear her. 'Get a handle of yourself! Our son is all that matters'-"</p><p>"That's the first time you've spoken about her," Damian observed, still confused by the swirling mess of emotions within him. "<em>Sixteen </em>years—and this is the first and only time you mention her. How many times did I ask?" Damian held himself back, then. He had not meant to be so harsh. But his mother had always been a sore subject between them.</p><p>"I'm sorry," his father's features crumpling. What had gotten over him? Since when had he become so cruel. "I truly am…But I couldn't…I did not have the strength."</p><p>"I want to forgive you," Damian sighed, more so at himself than his father. "I'm trying to. But it's not easy."</p><p>"It shouldn't be…" his father's voice trailed off, gaze glassy.</p><p>"What changed? Why now?"</p><p>His father massaged his temples, head hung low, searching for the right words when there could be none. "I've lost everything that is dear to me. Everything but you. It's time I learnt to cherish the gifts given to me. You're the best part of me—always have been. I think your grandfather would agree," His father shot a smile to the golden statue before them.</p><p>Damian did not know what to say to that. Perhaps the right words did exist. He threw his arms around his father who stumbled back from the impact. They stood there for a time, neither of them moving or breaking the silence in fear of ruining the moment.</p><p>When finally, the time came to part, Damian asked what had hung at the tip of his tongue for a long time now. "Father…I want to ask-"</p><p>"-For my blessing." His father finishing the question with a wide beam.</p><p>"What? How'd you know?" Damian as flabbergasted as his tone implied.</p><p>"Know what? That you wanted to propose to Chloe? A father knows these things. You've always made it obvious how much you loved her. Fumbling and checking your pockets every other moment didn't really help your case now did it?" His father's smile turning amused.</p><p>"You have my blessing," he patted Damian on the shoulder. "Your mother would have loved her, you know. They shared the same limitless capacity of kindness."</p><p>"I hope wherever she is, she's happy." Damian could barely keep his tears in check. It was strange talking about his mother.</p><p>"I hope so too. But how can she not be when she's got you for a son? Not to mention a daughter-in-law. And soon…grandchildren"</p><p>Damian nearly choked at the statement much to his father's bemusement. Of course, he'd thought about the matter. Perhaps thought about too often. But hearing his father say it was weird to say the least.</p><p>"What are you waiting for?" his father nudged him.</p><p>"Now is not the time for such matters."</p><p>"I would argue otherwise."</p><p>"I'm not ready. Not today, but very soon."</p><p>"Very well. I don't think I need to tell you this but treat her well. You never know when…"</p><p>"I will," Damian cut in quickly. He could not bear the train of thought his father was leaning towards. Never.</p><p>His father nodded and they parted ways.</p><hr/><p>"How did it go?" Chloe asked, peaking through one open eyelid. She had moved so that her back was resting against the headboard, eyes closed. She looked so peaceful; he had thought her asleep when he'd first returned to his room.</p><p>Damian could not help but smile at the sight of her, especially after the talk he'd just had.</p><p>"Better than expected-"</p><p>"How so?" she propped herself on her elbows as she turned to him, her curiosity peaked.</p><p>"We talked about my mother."</p><p>Chloe's expression said it all. She cared for him more than he sometimes cared for himself. He wondered again what it was he had done to deserve her.</p><p>"You should rest," he said in reply to her raised eyebrow. Perhaps he'd been staring silently for too long. "You look exhausted."</p><p>"You don't look too good yourself," she huffed playfully. When he did not give in, she added, "I can't, I have to get back to the infirmary."</p><p>Damian rolled beside her and planted a peck on her cheek. "Please. Just for a few hours—till the funeral, at least. Your patients have no need for a healer that can barely keep her eyes open. What would they do if you collapsed?"</p><p>Chloe snuggled her head into the crook of his neck and murmured, 'Mmm, you make a strong case." Her eyelids were heavy, fluttering in an attempt to keep awake, her lashes brushing against his cheek.</p><p>"Rest," he breathed as they readjusted themselves into a more comfortable position. Before he knew it, she was asleep. He planted another kiss on her forehead, whispering, "Rest well, my rose."</p><hr/><p>Edited 30th April 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>This is where I truly started to fall in love with my OCs. I hope you like them as well. And yes, back to Perlia in the next chapter.</strong>
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  <strong>Do leave a comment if you enjoyed the chapter</strong>
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  <strong>I'd really appreciate it</strong>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. The Three-Pronged Revelation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks for the all the support. Especially those who have commented or left kudos.</p><p>Here we go! Moarrrr Perlia. And yes, they'll be in the next twelve chapters without breaks. So, for those who came for Perlia and only that I hope you'll enjoy what comes next and that you enjoy my OCs as well.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thalia</p><p>Thalia and Percy lumbered at a steady pace, across fields, rivers, and forests. They stumbled blindly through the darkness, having decided it far too dangerous to rest while the sun was down. After all, they had been pursued by creatures born of the dark or at least those that drew strength from it.</p><p>As if hellhounds weren't enough…</p><p>Just the thought of those creatures. Their crooked limbs and leathery wings. The sensations they drew from deep within. Altogether different from the weight imposed by the presence of hellhounds. She couldn't decide which was worse, being torn from within or crushed from the outside. Keeping her fist clenched was all she could do to stifle her trembling.</p><p>Percy had tried to help. At least she thought he did. He had littered their journey with small talk. Asking her about Sparta then quickly diverting the topic when noticing her silence. Then other things ranging from hobbies, to food and color.</p><p>Thalia had tried too. Perhaps not as much as him. After a time, they both realised that neither had their hearts in it. Perhaps it was for the better, he had said. Better they preserve their strength. Better to stay silent as to not attract unwanted attention, she had added.</p><p>So, walk in silence they did, both stealing glances at one another. The only sounds, the howling of wind and the occasional snap or squelch of misplaced steps. Thalia did not know if those stolen glances were for his benefit or hers. Was she looking out for him or rather reassuring herself of the fact that she no longer travelled alone?</p><p>More time passed, and slowly but surely, light filtered into the world. Fractured beams that pierced the forest and cast a warm pinkish hue across the land. Percy came to a halt, staring off into the distance.</p><p>Before she could ask him, what it is that bothered him, he mumbled a stream of incomprehensible sounds. She slid beside him and he turned to her for just a moment, a sad smile planted on his lips.</p><p>"It's the simple things that we forget to appreciate." Thalia did not quite understand what he was getting at. From the look he had given her, something profound. "I never paid attention to it," he continued, eyes flicking to her once again. "-the sunrise, the beauty of it. Then my village got ravaged by a storm that lasted days. A storm that had not yet subsided when I had left."</p><p>"It is not always easy to see the beauty in simplicity," Thalia considered, wishing again that she had just been happy with what she had and not asked to visit the city.</p><p>"No," Percy sighed. "No, it's not."</p><p>As he turned, ready to continue their long journey, Thalia saw the strap of the satchel he bore shift across his shoulder and the accompanying wince he tried to mask.</p><p>Of course. How could she have been so daft? All this time she'd been focused on her own thoughts, not even considering the possible discomfort he was in. Now, with the light, she saw it in his movements. She supposed it answered her earlier question. That she looked to him for comfort rather than concern.</p><p>"Percy," she started. "Hand me the supplies."</p><p>"It's alright-"</p><p>She narrowed her eyes.</p><p>"Seriously I'm fine-"</p><p>"<em>Now," </em>she glared, voice rising with her temper.</p><p>"Fine," he submitted, carefully lifting the satchel of his shoulders. "Sheesh…what happened to keeping our volume down?"</p><p>"How could you be so stupid?" Thalia found herself scowling again. "Now's not the time for chivalry."</p><p>"You think I'm chivalrous, do you?" Percy grinned, raising a fist to his chest, and tilting his head at a jaunty angle. If he wasn't being so infuriating, she might have smiled at his antics.</p><p>"I'm being serious." She maintained, hand stretched and waiting for him to hand her the satchel. As he did, his grin fell away, his expression morphing to one of such genuine sincerity, she felt the sudden urge to look away.</p><p>"I know. And I'm sorry," He ran his fingers through his hair. "I was just trying to inject some levity into the situation. Truth be told, the silence was driving me mad."</p><p>She broke his gaze and nodded in agreement. "Me too. But now that the sun has risen, I think we can afford to make a little noise." When she lifted her gaze back to his, he was smiling.</p><p>"Crazy huh? You and I. Us. Demigods." Percy gestured frantically in the space between them.</p><p>"Crazy's right," Thalia agreed. "You'd think it would change things—that we'd feel stronger somehow-"</p><p>"Yet I've never felt weaker," Percy added, turning away as he said it, nothing more than whisper.</p><p>"How's your back?" she asked quickly, only then realizing that the weakness he was alluding to had nothing to do with it. Not a physical weakness but rather a self-imposed one.</p><p>"It's getting there," he answered, his face showing no signs of distress. He was good at hiding his pain. She'd give him that. "Besides, I have a great idea to take our minds off things…"</p><p>"Well, what is it?"</p><p>"We'll take turns guessing each other's godly parent."</p><p>"Really, Percy? I don't think that's appropriate…" she said skeptically. "Oh, who am I kidding—that's never stopped me before." It was true. She had decided a long time ago that if the gods really cared, the world wouldn't be the way it is. That a child wouldn't be abandoned like unwanted property. Now she learnt that it was the gods who had played a direct part in that abandonment. At least one god in particular. And suddenly the thought of the game did not seem appealing anymore.</p><p>"Artemis?" Percy suggested, eyes darting to her bow and back. Thalia rolled her eyes. "What?" Percy protested. "She is the god of archery."</p><p>"She's also a maiden goddess,"</p><p>"Oh" his cheeks reddened.</p><p>"My turn," Thalia said quickly, running her eyes over him. She did not want to dwell on her thoughts. Let bygones be bygones. Let them rot. "Hmm…surely not a son of Ares-"</p><p>"Is that supposed to be a compliment. Like I'm not someone who'd start a fight."</p><p>Thalia curled her lips in amusement. "You can take it any way you wish. Just know that if I had completed that sentence you might have thought otherwise." Percy frowned at that. "Honestly, my best guess would be Hermes."</p><p>His frown did not fade as he held her gaze with knitted brows. "Are you implying I'm a thief directly after implying that I'm not the most…" he took a quick surveying glance of himself, "well-built individual you have met."</p><p>A laugh slipped through her lips. A joyous sound that sent warmth coursing through her. How had something so familiar become so strange. When had she last felt this feeling? The lightness that came with it.</p><p>"No…" she stammered in between laughter. "I only meant to comment on your fortitude, of course-"</p><p>"Of course," he nodded in whole-hearted agreement.</p><p>"It's true. We've travelled this far and you've yet to utter a single complaint. Sporting an injury and a seriously misguided case of chivalry no less."</p><p>"Perhaps that misguided case of chivalry is the only reason I have yet to utter a complaint." Now it was his turn to offer a coy smile. "Perhaps I have held back many a complaint for fear of offending my companion."</p><p>"Ha, ha." Thalia let her voice drag as sardonically as possible. "Very funny."</p><p>"Hermes…" Percy said it as if the word were foreign to him which of course was a ridiculous notion. "I suppose one could do worse." Save to say he was not at all convinced. "Athena?"</p><p>Also, a maiden goddess. Yet the stories had always contradicted themselves in that regard. History had been littered with figures claiming to be descendants of Athena. Claims that carried a lot more weight now that she knew demigods were real.</p><p>"She could be your mother. You're the best warrior I know."</p><p>"Aren't I the only warrior you know?" she asked, brows raised in a what-in-the-world-are-you-on-about look.</p><p>"That is besides the point," a half smile tugging at his lips. "I mean, come on. You're a Spartan Warrior-"</p><p>"Not yet," she breathed. Too soft for him to hear. It was a bitter truth but the truth, nonetheless. She had not passed the trials. She did not deserve to.</p><p>"-and you should've seen yourself when you came to my rescue. All mysterious and majestic, your cloak billowing behind you as you leapt from the skies."</p><p>Thalia did not know what to say to that. Admiration that was also undeserved. So, deny she did. "Not possible. Athena is the patron goddess of Athens, Sparta's ancient rival. Shifting from sworn enemies to reluctant allies so many times even history forgets."</p><p>"You say that now, but I saw it in your smile…you liked the idea."</p><p>And he was right wasn't he. How could she not? Despite her declaration that she had forsaken the gods as they did her, there were some she still respected. Gods she couldn't help but respect for they stood for things so fundamental to her beliefs, it would seem a sort of betrayal of self if she didn't. There were even fewer she revered, one of them being Athena.</p><p>Yet, it was precisely the reason why Thalia didn't want it to be her. She did not want to believe for even a heartbeat that this betrayal she had known for all her life could somehow be worse.</p><p>The goddess stood for everything a Spartan warrior did, battle-prowess and above all, wisdom. Not wisdom in its traditional sense, like the Athenians worshipped, but rather the wisdom to make the difficult choices when put on the spot. To improvise and come out on top in any battle, any situation, even if the world was crumbling around you.</p><p>In a way, one could say that Sparta and Athens represented the two sides of Athena. The goddess of wisdom and war, intertwined in more ways than one, both seen and unseen.</p><p>It was then Thalia realised she had been twirling her necklace across her fingertips—the one that supposedly belonged to the high priestess of Athena. Could Cyril have known? Could that have been why he gifted it to her? Then again, how could she even be sure that it was her mother that was a god and not her father.</p><p>
  <em>Your father asked me to keep you away for as long as possible…I only received a letter when you arrived at my doorstep.</em>
</p><p>Those had been Cyril's words. As amusing a thought of an all-powerful immortal doing something as simple as being sat at a desk with a quill in his hand, it did not seem plausible. Which in the end, mattered naught. Because however the story was spun, it would lead down the same road, the same betrayal.</p><p>"Thalia," Percy said softly, bringing his face into view. How long had she been silent? "You good?"</p><p>And when she met those eyes that sloshed and swirled with sincerity and concern, she felt it again, the ever-weakening grasp of control. Perhaps she had never had it in the first place. That mastery so sought out by her people. One of mind, heart, and soul. The truest path to becoming a Spartan warrior.</p><p>Thalia steadied her breathing and forced a smile. "Yeah," she said unconvincingly, "I'm good."</p><hr/><p>Percy</p><p>They continued in silence like before. Something Percy had said had pulled her into her thoughts. He only wished she'd talk to him. Because what else did they have now but each other?</p><p>And after all, he had done the same that night she had saved him. The memories were still faint, but he remembered spilling out his deepest doubts and darkest fears. And though she did not know him at the time, she had tried her best to reassure him. Of course, it had failed, but it was a distraction, a welcome one. He only wished to repay the favor. Perhaps now that…</p><p>Percy did not know how to describe what it is they had. Something intangible yet real. Something born of necessity and reliance. But the promise he had made to her, albeit silently, held him back. He would not push her, not until she was ready.</p><p>And as soon as Percy decided the fact, he decided the opposite. Why? Because he had heard the sorrow in her voice, the aching despair screaming silently for release. Five simple words that had carried such anguish it had slammed into him like a blow to the gut.</p><p><em>Nor a child their parent</em>.</p><p>Percy knew that pain. He lived it. Her father's final request, she had said. He eyed her wearily as they continued, using the silence to craft precise words. Ones he hoped would dance their way into her heart without breaking what was not already shattered. Words that could maybe even stitch back the pieces, even if just for moment.</p><p>Percy was ready. This was that moment.</p><p>"Percy," Thalia said, stopping him in his tracks. Percy was certain that it would have been him who had to break the silence. And now that it was broken, the words he had braved, slipped out of his mind. "We need food to keep up our strength."</p><p>Percy made to move for the satchel, but she shook her head and explained. "It's best we save this food for later, especially when <em>later</em> could mean being pursued by a horde of hellhounds or any other-" she tilted her head to the skies, as if in challenge to the gods. "-god-forsaken creature."</p><p>"If there was a river or even a stream nearby, I could catch us some fish."</p><p>Thalia let out a soft huff of laughter, "And where, may I ask, did you learn this particular skill?"</p><p>Percy felt the warmth rise to his cheeks at the question. Thalia had been training to be a warrior since young while all he was good for was fishing. "I was a fisherman," Percy said it with a tentative glance her way. There was no mockery in her expression. Only pleasant curiosity.</p><p>"Huh," she nodded. "I should have known. You did say you were from Kastelli. Spartan merchants were always sailing there to trade. I wonder if I've ever eaten fish caught by you."</p><p>The thought elicited a smile. "I doubt it,"</p><p>"Oh?" A playful smile on her part. "And why is that?"</p><p>"You would have known. There's a reason my reputation precedes me. A reason why I'm called the greatest fisherman on Crete."</p><p>"Go on," she was shaking her head, lips pressed in an attempt to hold back her laughter. "What is it? The reason."</p><p>"Err…" Percy muttered. "There are some secrets too dangerous to be uttered so carelessly. The consequences could be dire"</p><p>Thalia was grinning, head tilted at a slight angle when suddenly she shushed him, eyes darting wildly at something behind him. Not again.</p><p>"A rabbit," Thalia whispered.</p><p>Oh. It was just a rabbit, far off in the distance, hopping innocently from rock to rock that had set his heart racing up his throat. As quietly as possible, Percy tiptoed out of the way, having seen firsthand the damage that bow could wrought. In one smooth motion, Thalia nocked an arrow and held her bowstring taut at eye level. There was a fierce beauty in the way she wielded a bow. Poster immaculate, brows furrowed, lips parted slightly in concentration. Who knew destruction could be so elegant?</p><p>Thalia released a breath and with it, death. She ran off and returned with the rabbit hanging from her sword belt.</p><p>"We need to find a place to set camp," she said it simply. As if she hadn't just shot a moving rabbit in midair at a distance most would not dare attempt for a mark its size.</p><hr/><p>Percy and Thalia found themselves huddled around a campfire he had started. Fortunately for them, they had stumbled across an alcove, carved into a hillside, shortly after the incident with the rabbit. Said rabbit—freshly and expertly skinned by Thalia—was now cooking on a spit above the fire.</p><p>They sat there for a long time, letting the warmth seep into them and rekindle their strength. Percy was once again gathering the courage to talk to Thalia, to try and bring the same sort of comfort the fire did, but to her heart rather than one's bones and muscles. The only thing in his way now was that nagging doubt at the back of his mind and the smiles and laughter he had seen play across her lips.</p><p>Why bring back the pain? Why dive into the deepest recesses of one's mind. Who was he to push her back into those depths when he was barely keeping afloat himself?</p><p>"Hello," Thalia waved a hand across his face. "Earth to Percy"</p><p>"Umm…yeah, what's up?"</p><p>"It's time for me to keep my promise." she said with a sly smile.</p><p>"What promise?"</p><p>She picked up her xiphos, still covered in rabbit guts, and wiped it against the mossy cave wall before sliding it to Percy. "To teach you how to fight."</p><p>"Now?"</p><p>"Why not? Time's-a-wasting. Sadly, we only have one sword, which means we won't get to spar." Thalia smirked knowingly.</p><p>Percy let out a nervous chuckle. He did not want to be on the opposite end of her wrath, blade or no blade. He wrapped his fingers around the handle and tested its weight. Lighter than what he was used to.</p><p>Thalia circled him like a hawk. "Your stance is off. Too narrow. You could easily lose your balance…or be made to," she shoved him with her shoulders, sending him straight to the ground.</p><p>Percy was ready to complain at the unfairness of it all, but when he looked up at her, she was smiling, and for the first time since he'd known her, it reached her eyes. After all she had endured, here in this cave, teaching a stranger how to fight, she was happy, even if just for a moment. And it was everything. It had to be. Because at his lowest, she had done the same for him.</p><p>Though, Percy would be lying if he said it didn't pique his curiosity. What was it that brought her such joy? A reminder of better times, perhaps. He returned to his feet, this time, stance wider.</p><p>"Good," she said, still smiling. "Now unlock your knees. Don't keep them straight or tensed. You must be ready for anything. Same goes for the ankles."</p><p>Percy readjusted himself accordingly, "Now what?"</p><p>"Bring your blade down, hard and fast in a diagonal…good. Now rotate your wrist at the bottom of your swing and morph into another swing…yes just like that. Somebody's a quick learner."</p><p>Perhaps she was right. The blade felt natural in his hands, and so was the adrenaline that came with every swing. It was as if power pulsed through his veins and muscles, guiding his aim to be true. It felt good, finally taking back some control over his life. He was tired of feeling like a passenger being dragged through the mud.</p><p>The entire time, Thalia circled him, giving him pointers to improve his form. He jumped a little when he felt her hands at his sides.</p><p>"Keep your torso upright. The strength of a blow comes from the rotation of the hips, not the wrist. Though, both are important."</p><p>Her hands fell away as she returned to the front to observe his movements. Percy's skin still tingled from where her fingers lay. Probably just the after effect of having a severely numb back.</p><p>"Hmm…not bad," she nodded. "Not bad at all. Let's call it for now. We don't wanna aggravate your wounds, or worse, have burnt rabbit for breakfast."</p><p>"That would be worse, wouldn't it?" he pouted.</p><p>They returned to the comforting warmth of the fire as Percy slid the meat of the spit and handed Thalia her portion. It wasn't the best, but neither of them complained, chewing silently on the dry meat.</p><p>"Thalia."</p><p>"Mmm?" she managed, swallowing her food.</p><p>"I get why you saved me from the demon. But why did you help me in tavern? I was in no danger-"</p><p>"I beg to differ," she said matter-of-factly. "You were one step away from collapse-"</p><p>"You didn't know me-"</p><p>"But I knew the look in your eyes. There are some things money can't buy. Some things far too precious." A glance directed at his ring.</p><p>"My mother gave it to me," The details were not necessary. She would have heard in his voice. "A gift from my father apparently."</p><p>"The god?"</p><p>Percy shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose so." He had spent many an hour staring at the ring, at the fine engravings that made no sense to him. "What about your necklace? Was it a gift from your father too?"</p><p>"Yes." Thalia said it quickly, hiding the necklace she'd been twirling under her tunic, the light he'd seen in her eyes fading.</p><p>Dammit. So much for bringing her comfort. Why did he push her back? Back into those depths.</p><p>She was avoiding eye contact now, turning away from him. "We should take turns sleeping. I'll take first watch."</p><p>"No," Percy protested. "I'll take first watch. It's the least I can do."</p><p>"You've done enough." Her tone was kind enough, but the words were cold, even if she hadn't meant them to be. "And I already slept at Maya's house."</p><p>"So did I. I was asleep the entire time on a comfortable bed while you waited for me."</p><p>"You're impossible,"</p><p>"I know."</p><p>"Fine."</p><p>Thalia laid out her cloak like a blanket and made herself comfortable, which was apparently anyway that wasn't facing him. An unknown amount of time drifted by, the after effect of being stuck in a cave. For all he knew, it could have been hours. Yet, Thalia was still awake. Percy caught the movements form the corner of his eyes—the occasional flutter of eyelashes as she struggled to fall asleep.</p><p>"Thalia?"</p><p>She turned over on her cloak, looking at him through heavy eyelids. She must have been on the verge of falling asleep, which only made him feel worse than he already did.</p><p>"Yes?"</p><p>"Do you think it's worth trying to be a hero?" Percy did not know what compelled him to ask the question. Perhaps the long and heavy silence of contemplation. But he was tired of the doubt. A doubt he had warred with for so long now and had never defeated.</p><p>She propped herself up and scooted over to him, hugging her knees as she cocked her head at him. "What's gotten into you?" Again, Percy found himself surprised with how quickly her temper could change. The tenderness in her gaze and voice was a far cry from the not-quite-anger she had shown him when he'd brought up her father.</p><p>"It's just that…the story of Maya's son has gotten me thinking," he gulped. "Never mind it's silly."</p><p>"It's not. Go on." She said softly, brushing her shoulder against his.</p><p>"My mother always taught me to do the right thing. To be righteous. To fight for those who could not fend for themselves. To be a hero. And I tried. I really did. But every time I did, I failed, and the world was no better for it. So much death, Thalia. The world is a broken thing and I fear no matter what I do, it will only get worse. So why should I try? Why should I lead the people I love to their deaths?"</p><p>Thalia pressed her palm against the back of his hand trying to wrap her fingers around his. He lifted his palm an inch from the cold, wet stone, letting warmth replace it instead.</p><p>"I made many choices that day. All of them wrong. I chose to leave my village to find some of my people and by the time I arrived, they were dead. By the time I returned, more died. A man I knew told me it was hopeless to save the village. I tried anyway. He followed me and he died. And the worst part was that his final words were that my heroism inspired him. And then I reached my house and found my mother and it was my presence that brought forth more demons from the skies…" he paused for breath. "Then she died protecting me. What if I had not made all those choices, Thalia? How many more would have survived. You saw it first-hand. My decision to flee and save my village almost brought death to Nauplia-"</p><p>"Percy," she was squeezing his hand now. "You need to stop this. I don't believe for a second that through that entire ordeal, it was only death you brought. How many did you save?"</p><p>"Some,"</p><p>"How many?" Thalia pressed on.</p><p>"I don't know."</p><p>"You don't know because it was too many to count-"</p><p>"I don't know because the number is insignificant compared to the losses."</p><p>"Oh, is it." Her grip on his hand was now painful. "So, I suppose that me saving you was insignificant. That I should have left you for dead."</p><p>"Perhaps you should have!" he raised his voice in frustration, immediately regretting the words he let slip. He had not meant it. Not the part on leaving him for dead but the part where he implied what she had done for him was insignificant. Thalia's glare bore into his soul. Letting her down was the last thing he had wanted to do when he'd agreed to make the journey to Hemitheopolis together.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Percy met her glare with conviction. A conviction to let her know that he had not meant it. Not a single word.</p><p>"You should be."</p><p>"I don't know what I'm doing."</p><p>Thalia sighed, the anger in her eyes receding. "Neither do I. But I know this. The world needs its heroes. Every single life you save is a being. A being with feelings and thoughts and a family. No price can be put to life. The beautiful yet disastrous complexity of it. And who knows? Maybe one of the people you have saved will go on to save others. A cycle of heroism. One you started when you made those choices."</p><p>"You're right. And I am sorry."</p><p>"I'll forgive you this time." She nudged him playfully. "But I don't want to hear such nonsense ever again."</p><p>"What aren't you good at again?" Percy asked with a lopsided smile. "A warrior, a hunter, a teacher, a source of wisdom-"</p><p>"Fishing." Thalia said bluntly. "I'm not good at fishing."</p><p>Percy burst into laughter.</p><hr/><p>Percy sat with his legs outstretched, back against the thickest layer of moss he could find. Anything was better than solid rock. Thalia had fallen asleep beside him. Percy could barely keep awake, but he could not bring himself to interrupt her rest. Through the slanted slit in the cave wall—the one they had squeezed through; he could tell it was getting dark. Which meant that if they didn't start moving now, they would potentially be in a world of trouble.</p><p>As if materializing from thin air, a massive black hound leapt from the darkness, towering above them with bloodshot eyes. Percy decided then, it was better not to think in potentials. They somehow always seemed to bite him in the back.</p><p>He reached across Thalia and pulled the xiphos from its sheath. Thank the gods she slept with it at her side. Percy brought the blade down in a swift motion—exactly as she had taught him and met the creature's swipe mid-blow. Blood spurted everywhere as his weapon went flying along with its severed limb.</p><p>The hound howled in pain, mouth frothing with saliva as it limped forward. Weaponless or not Percy would not budge. Not when he was the only thing that stood between it and Thalia. He still had his fists and that would have to be enough.</p><p>The creature pounced, and Percy raised his fist towards it. A blinding flash of blue-</p><p>When it subsided, all that was left was one dead hellhound with a crystal trident pierced through its jaw and out the roof of its skull. Percy, still in shock, released the weapon, and with it the weight of the creature. The hellhound fell with a heavy thud, sending waves of colour reflecting through the cave from the trident's glow.</p><p>"Percy," said Thalia. She was propped on her elbows, eyes wide from all she had witnessed. "I know who your father is. You're a son of Poseidon, Lord of the Sea."</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Hope you guys enjoyed that as much as I did. And yes there will be no insta-love here but one that is built over time and trust.</strong>
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  <strong>Do leave a comment if you enjoyed the chapter</strong>
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  <strong>I'd really appreciate it</strong>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. The Gulf Between</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: I am back for a good six weeks now, and I am working overtime to build a back log so that I won't require another hiatus. I will of course still disappear for a couple of weeks whenever my finals arrive but be assured that you will be warned and that I won't abandon this story.</p><p>This picks up on Perlia's journey to Hemitheopolis as well as what is happening within the city.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thalia</p><p>"We need to get out of here now!" Thalia shook her head, blinking, wishing her damned eyes would adjust to the sudden burst of light that had left those brilliant blue spots glimmering in the darkness. It was a difficult thing, standing up.</p><p>She wanted to but something else didn't. Something that was weary of the sensation that filled the cave. Something that perhaps thought it'd never have to face it again. Something born with the hope of a haven. A foolish hope if not naïve.</p><p>More were coming. A lot more.</p><p>Percy offered her his hand, having sloppily wiped the gore from it. She accepted it, a sort of bridge for that something. It was only then she met his eyes…he felt it too, and were it not for the adrenaline, she was sure they had naught the strength to push on.</p><p>"They're out there, aren't they?" Percy whispered, throat bobbing. Thalia nodded, moving to retrieve her xiphos as Percy stepped into the shadows for his own weapon.</p><p>They emerged from the mouth of the cave at full speed, Thalia cursing inwardly at the night sky. Of course, it had to be dark out. Of course, the moon was at its peak, sending shadows stretching across the realms.</p><p>It filled her again, the dread, halting her in her tracks. She threw herself into Percy, shoving him to the earth, twisting and turning to fire an arrow into darkness as she tumbled with him. Just as she had predicted, a hellhound leapt forth from the oak tree that towered over them with its ominous girth. Her arrow buried itself in the creature's paw even before it made its landing, sending it crashing down on its side, skidding across the mud, and uprooting several trees in its path.</p><p>Percy turned to her, bewildered, "How?"</p><p>"Hellhounds," she said already back to her feet, this time offering him a hand. "They can travel through shadows."</p><p>"I noticed. But how? How did you know exactly where it would appear?"</p><p>"I didn't. I just…felt it,"</p><p>Percy stood there for just a moment; eyes closed as he curled his fingertips. "They ooze it, don't they?" he said, peeking with one eye. "Death. Like those winged demons ooze fear. The stories never did mention it, the mental aspect of the fight."</p><p>Thalia did not know what to say to that. He was right, of course. The stories always spoke of the glory of battle. Of wit and strength. Not this psychological nightmare.</p><p>"It seems to get stronger when they are shadow-jumping," Thalia said finally, after considering how it is she had managed her feat. "Concentrated in one central location, as if they were channeling their darkness-"</p><p>Alarm splintered its way through Percy's features-</p><p>He launched his trident straight at her. It whistled past her cheek and judging by the accompanying whine, pierced the flesh of another hellhound.</p><p>"Like that?" he swallowed.</p><p>A quick glance over her shoulder revealed a dead hound, Percy's trident protruding through its neck, alongside dislodged bones, and matted flesh.</p><p>"Exactly like that,"</p><p>When she turned, Percy was closer than before, and spiraling through his splintered alarm was something else altogether. His features fraught with guilt.</p><p>"Are you alright," he stepped closer still, fumbling with his hands nervously. "I…I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."</p><p>"What are you going on about?" she asked, taking a slight step back, only then in the movement of it, feeling the warmth that trickled down her shoulder and the searing pain that came with it.</p><p>Two long gashes ran across her shoulder. Nothing new to her, the pain. Mild even for her standards. But it was state of her cloak that truly hurt. <em>His</em> cloak—the thought spurred an instinctive grasp at her necklace. She squeezed the icy metal exactly like she had when it had been pressed between their palms.</p><p>
  <em>Cyril…I'm sorry.</em>
</p><p>"Thalia," Percy's voice anchoring her back to the present. He approached, steps tentative, eyes scanning her wound in frantic, darting motions as he muttered wildly under his breath, "<em>It's all my fault."</em></p><p>"You did what you had to. You saved me."</p><p>He parted his lips as if to argue the fact. She knew what he would have said. That she'd had it covered. That she didn't need him. His faith in her was unearned, but worse, was the fact that his faith in himself, miniscule as it were, was waning. So, she stopped him in his tracks with a glare.</p><p>"It needs cleaning," Percy ripped the sleeve of his chiton and dabbed at her wounds. Thalia clenched her teeth, trying to hide her discomfort. "Without proper treatment it'll get infected. If only I hadn't left Maya's supplies in the cave."</p><p>He seemed to be doing everything to avoid her gaze as he cleansed her wound as well as he could. As carefully as he could. Every now and then, she'd catch a glimpse of them. Those green eyes, their irises darker than usual. As if waves of regret had spilled forth from deep within him.</p><p>"Percy," her fingers wrapping around his wrist and demanding his attention. "Stop. We are in this together. We are both to blame. So, stop…its alright. I'm going to be alright. We will get through this. We're almost at the gulf. I'm sure Hemitheopolis has healers. Besides, it's only a couple of scratches," she managed a reassuring smile.</p><p>Percy shook his head, looking not at all convinced, lips curled slightly, "You're amazing. You know that, right?"</p><p>"I do indeed. I also know that we really need to keep moving. So, stop worrying, will you?"</p><p>"At least let me bandage the wound first," he tore his other sleeve and wrapped it around her shoulder. "This is going to hurt a little," he warned, holding her gaze with that sincerity of his. Thalia winced as he pulled the bandage taut. "There, that should staunch the bleeding at least."</p><p>When Percy stepped away, it was like the world had come back into focus. Before she could dwell on the thought, a low growl rumbled through the woods, accompanied by a mountain of lumbering fur. The creature's limp and trail of blood was enough for her to identify it to be the one she had shot earlier.</p><p>They ran. Minutes turned into hours. In a way, they were fortunate. As fortunate as anyone in their position could be, at least. There were only two other times that they had been ambushed and each time by one hellhound. One expertly dispatched by her bow the other by Percy's trident.</p><p>After a time, they spotted a clearing, and the hope that swelled within her was so intense, she almost forgot every kernel of pain that pulsated within her. She had looked at that damned map for hours on their journey. They had to be close. This journey—chapter even—of her life would finally be coming to an end. All the pain, the regret, the death. It would haunt her of course. But maybe, just maybe, things would get better from here on out. They had to, surely.</p><p>And then the world froze. A presence hundred-fold to that of her hope. Pushing in the opposite direction. Downward. Inward. She could move nothing more than her eyes. Beside her, Percy too was frozen.</p><p>No.</p><p>No</p><p>NO</p><p>She knew this feeling. Death. Every fiber of her seemed to rise and scream in unison. A silent, desolate cry for help. The presence rolled down in swathes from atop the hill. Somehow worse than before. Worse than everything that came before. It was as if she were being eviscerated from within. Because it was. From within. She heard the silent screams now. What they were demanding for—begging even.</p><p>
  <em>Give in.</em>
</p><p>It would be easier, wouldn't it? All the pain gone. Just like that. She'd be reunited with Cyril; with his family she had always wanted to meet. What was the point anyway? Wasn't that her final destination? Everyone dies sooner or later. Perhaps sooner was better than later.</p><p>All those thoughts pulled at her soul. Deeper even. And just when she thought it would all end. That it was too much to bear, she was whisked away…</p><p>There she was again. Back at <em>that </em>night, watching it from afar, watching herself cradle his head in her lap.</p><p>"I love you too," Cyril whispered. "The day you arrived was the happiest day of my life. You were like a daughter to me. You were so much more. You filled a hole in my heart. Your father would be proud of the woman you have grown into"</p><p>"My real father is," past-her said, kissing him on the forehead.</p><p>
  <em>Would he? Would he still be proud if she gave up like this?</em>
</p><p>Then she was swept away again, this time to the Maya's hut.</p><p>"Your lives won't be easy, but I beg of you, survive. Do it for my son, so his sacrifice meant something."</p><p>The other her approached Maya and gathered her into a hug. "We will."</p><p>
  <em>Would this become another empty promise? One of many. Would she ever forgive herself?</em>
</p><p>The images shifted back and forth, sending her drifting across her past, some recent, others, not quite.</p><p>"You're amazing. You know that, right?"</p><p>
  <em>His faith. Pure and given so freely. Like nothing she had known before. The one person she had done right by. And here she was, ready to throw it away. Wasn't that a betrayal? If not a betrayal to him then at least a betrayal of self.</em>
</p><p>Again, the images shifted, her stomach churning. Enough. She had seen enough.</p><p>Thalia knew the answers to the questions she posed herself now—her doubts. A hodgepodge of yesses and noes and I-don't-knows that all led to the same conclusion. She could not—no she <em>would</em> not give up. The future beckoned not the past.</p><p>So, she screamed. Screamed against those inner screams and against that outer presence.</p><p>And just like that, she was back on the hillside, staring at a sea of hellhounds bounding down towards them, cresting over the hill like waves of death. Impending, inevitable, inescapable.</p><p>As she gathered what withered will that stirred within her, and turned to Percy, the thoughts she had wrangled from her chest crept back up her skin. His eyes, lifeless. No guilt, no concern, no mirth.</p><p>She tugged at his hand-</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>A squeeze that should have been painful…</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>"Percy!" she hissed, the weight of death pressing in on her. She flicked her gaze frantically between their linked fingers and his eyes and the horde of creatures.</p><p>"Don't make me break my promise. Don't…" her voice cracking, as she squeezed her eyes shut, in response to the mind-numbing pressure.</p><p>Somehow, through all that pressure that boiled within her. She felt it. The slightest of squeezes. The simple warmth of life that resisted the death.</p><p>"I'm here." Percy gasped; brows furrowed at what he was seeing. No words were needed. They ran. Ran like she had done since that night. So much running. Soon. Soon it would be over.</p><p>The clearing she had seen was more than that. It stretched straight into the calm open sea, the only blemishes, the old, abandoned sail boats strewn across the horizon. And beside it…</p><p>"Corinth," Percy managed through heavy breaths.</p><p>The gulf. They had arrived. Just one crossing. That was all that was left.</p><p>Though she tried to avoid it, the sights of the city distracted her. The port acting as a window into the walled city. Nothing like Sparta. And it was not the existence of the towering walls or even the Acrocorinth that stood so tall it seemed to be one with the starry sky. One with the gods. An impregnable fortress.</p><p>No—it was how the city bustled with life. Glorious life. Sparta bustled. But not like this. A tamed, weary bustle. A broken city on the brink of collapse. She had not realised it then, but the people were scared. What she had thought was the most beautiful sight that night in the markets was nothing but a shadow.</p><p>It was once Sparta that protected Greece—that protected Corinth. Or had those all been lies. A fabrication weaved through the ancient city. She did not want to believe it.</p><p>"Over there," Percy's voice cutting through her thoughts. He threw a glance in the direction of a particularly small and dingy sailboat. She knew why. It was the one furthest from the city. Despite his doubts…confessions…whatever nonsense he had spouted out last night, it was in his nature to protect. If only he could see it.</p><p>"Your sword. I'll need it to raise the sails and cut the boat loose."</p><p>She handed him the blade and readied her bow, "Alright, I'll try and slow them down as much as possible."</p><p>Thalia had already turned, her back against his, as she fired an arrow into the fray of darkness.</p><p>"Your shoulder," Percy started.</p><p>"Go!" she hissed in return.</p><p>"But…"</p><p>"Do you know how to shoot a bow?"</p><p>A moment of silence, then a whisper. "Be careful."</p><p>And just like that the warmth of his back against hers was gone, replaced by the icy breeze of the gulf. She heard him trudge through water. Shallow now but getting deeper by the second. She did not falter, using the rope that held the boat to the rotting wooden stake as a compass, step after step, arrow after arrow, thud after thud. Not even a dent in that wall of darkness. A wall that was now reaching the shore, meters away from her.</p><p>She reached for her quiver, fingertips grasping nothing but air. Shit.</p><p>"Percy! I'm out of arrows" she exclaimed, the quavering in her voice cut out by the resounding thump of a hundred paws slamming into the sea.</p><p>"Now, Thalia!". She turned on her heels, nearly stumbling face first into the gulf, Percy was kneeling on the edge of the boat one hand reaching for her, the other gripping the edge of the boat so tightly, she could see it trembling from here. The hellhounds were getting closer weren't they. And the water was not nearly deep enough to stop them.</p><p>The world was cruel wasn't it? After all she had been through. After getting this close to safety, it was to be ripped from her. She had always thought she'd meet her death with valor or perhaps sorrow…even fear. But all she felt now was anger. And were it not for the promise she had offered Percy, she'd be cursing the gods and all they stood for. She locked her gaze to his, a simple nod, a mouthed 'go'.</p><p>He roared; face contorted in what could only be described as a reflection of her strive. He held her gaze, unwavering against its harshness. A mouthed 'no' in return. She wanted to scream, to tell him to stop being so stupidly chivalrous—to save himself.</p><p>But the wind was taken from her as she was sent tumbling through the air. The world spun. Before she knew it, pain lanced through her torso as she slammed into the edge of the boat, Percy's arms already looped under her shoulders and pulling her to safety. The moment he released her, he swung wildly, severing the anchor. The boat finally free from its restraints lurched forward and creaked in joy.</p><p>"Was that you-"</p><p>"I don't know," he gulped, avoiding her gaze, and looking out to the horizon.</p><p>She followed his line of sight, a lump forming in her throat. She was sick of it. The hope. Being brought to the precipice only to be kicked into the chasm. Again, and again. That was what her life had come to. Despair and desolation. She did not even know what the point of her anger was anymore. And that only made her angrier. She had cursed the world and the gods, and they had cursed her back.</p><p>A prickling heat spread across her chest then arms, sizzling as the world grew silent around her. She screamed a primal scream. A distinct roar of raw emotions.</p><p>The night-sky shattered. First came the light, spearing through darkness and splintering down in arcs. Then came the darkness.</p><hr/><p>Damian</p><p>Damian awoke to the soft, familiar scent of roses. Chloe was still sound asleep in his arms, head resting in the crook of his neck. He held her close and pressed his lips against her forehead. Gods he wished they could stay like this forever. With her in his arms, rambling on and on about the healing properties of various flowers, leaves, berries, and god knows what. To watch her talk and smile and laugh and live.</p><p>Even now, he could tell exactly what she was using to treat her patients. The distinct smell of Lavender and Calendula. One for inflammations the other for infections. She was overworking herself and if he dared bring it up, she would reply with a simple 'aren't we all'. And she would be right as she always was.</p><p>"Damian," she stirred, their eyes meeting. She smiled softly. "We should get going to the Agora".</p><p><em>The funeral</em>. It slammed into him again. Those waves of guilt. She caught him before his walls broke, kissing him gently. He melted into her arms and sobbed into her shoulder. She held him there for a long time. And that was all he would ever need her to do.</p><p>Slowly and not entirely, he gathered himself and rolled off the bed. Chloe following suit. He brushed himself down and reached for his armor out of instinct, the one that was still stained with…</p><p>"Here," Chloe offered, drawing a new set of armor from his bedside chest. "Let me," she whispered as she walked up to him and helped ease him in. Instinctively, he brushed back a stray strand of her hair, his knuckles coming into contact with her smooth caramel skin.</p><p>She raised her eyes, blushing. Gods she was beautiful. Every inch of her. She offered her arm, and he linked his with hers as they made their way to the theater. As they walked, she kept up conversation and he knew exactly why she was doing it.</p><p>Was she successful? Partially. Did he love her so much more for it? Completely. If such a thing were even possible.</p><p>It was the longest this walk had ever felt. Funny how a short stretch of land stretches doesn't it? How a couple of footsteps could span a lifetime. The theatre seemed to gleam in reply. Bathed in both moonlight and firelight. A place that's purpose was to entertain. To spread joy and laughter.</p><p>It stood there in its lowered pit, beckoning him forward, down those semi-circular marble steps that had been carved into the earth long before he was born. Long before any of them were born. A gathering of Hemitheopolians…of heroes…of those he had failed.</p><p>It was small, at least—was what he told himself as he descended those daunting steps. Smaller than most theatres. The fact did not help. Of course, it wouldn't. Failure was failure. This was his home. His people. It did not matter that they numbered small. Far smaller than when this theatre had been built. He had the Battle of Corinth to thank for that. To thank for everything that had gone wrong in his life.</p><p>"Pst! Over here."</p><p>It was Annabeth. She was sat in the front row, a space just enough for two at her side. Damian tried to control the pounding within his chest, moving quickly into his seat, head hung low with shame as he drifted and warred with his thoughts.</p><p>A gentle squeeze to his arm anchored him back to reality. He was doing this too often wasn't he. Drifting off. He had to stop. It was that hesitation that had cost him so dearly. When he stole a glimpse to his side, he was surprised to find that the hand wasn't Chloe's. Annabeth had reached across her to comfort him.</p><p>Her grey eyes swirling like gathering storm clouds.</p><p>
  <em>Are you alright?</em>
</p><p>He nodded. Still she held his gaze, directing that intensity towards him.</p><p><em>Are you sure</em>?</p><p>He nodded again. She returned it. A curt we'll-get-through-this-together nod. Gods he was a terrible friend. She had been there too. Injured, nonetheless. She would hold it against herself. He knew it. They were far too alike.</p><p>Chloe eyed them wearily, gnawing at her lower lip, eyes flicking back and forth between them as she reached for both their hands.</p><p>Family. That was what this was. He'd only known them for four years, yet he could barely remember life before them. It was like this was how things had always been.</p><p>Slowly but surely the comfort of their presence seeped into his bones eviscerating his self-spite and transmuting it into something else. Gratitude. For everything. For every meal, every sparring session, every smile, laughter, or tear. Every single moment he had shared with them</p><p>At this point, that was all that mattered. It had to be-</p><p>A deep bellow filled the air. A sound he had heard too many times before. The Horn of Hades, blown once for every fallen Hemitheopolian. Once, twice, thrice…</p><p>It went on and on numbing his senses and turning the world into a prickling blur. It was cruel. So many of his brethren had not gotten the funeral they deserved. All they got for dying was being buried six feet beneath the earth. If they were lucky, their close friends and family would be the ones doing the burying.</p><p>But that was war. Stopping was not permissible or survivable. Stopping was to accept defeat. Like he had done…</p><p>
  <em>Don't...don't go there again.</em>
</p><p>When the war was over, then they would mourn. But that didn't matter now. When the Polemarch falls…or the Archon, stopping is necessary. The last time such a thing had happened…</p><p>The largest funeral in the city's history. More dead than alive. His mother…</p><p>A sob rose to his throat and that warmth that had filled him made space for something else. He couldn't even remember how she looked. Only her smile, a ghost of it.</p><p>The theatre fell to a dead silence in response to his father's signal. The Archon's scepter in his hand and a silver crown on his head.</p><p>"We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of friends and family alike," a solemn pause as his father looked to the earth, his lips shifting in muttered prayer. "But we are here not only to mourn, but to celebrate. Celebrate their lives and what they have accomplished. One thing in particular that we can all only hope to accomplish. A hero's death."</p><p>The crowd echoed in thudded unison of fists to hearts.</p><p>His father continued, standing proud, scepter raised like a beacon, "They died so we could live…So we will honour them. Honour them with every breath and every step. Honour them by following them to grave if we have to! Honour them by fighting!"</p><p>And with every declaration, his father's voice swelled, and the city with him. Hemitheopolians answering his call. Damian watched the transformation in awe. How a small group of dejected individuals could become one in an instant.</p><p>His father brought his scepter down to the ground in three quick taps, the sound echoing through the theatre. And with that signal, the coffin emerged behind him. Above even, on the open-air second story of the stage house. All white and gold, shimmering in the firelights. Marble and gold fused together to tell the story of Dorian's life. A crowned Warhammer, the centerpiece of the carvings…</p><p>The children of Hephaestus had outdone themselves. Damian only wished he could have helped in some way. Anything at all. Even something as simple as being one of the coffin bearers would have been better than this. A spectator both then and now.</p><p>The coffin bearers lay the coffin to rest and vanished, returning moments later with banners of varying designs—symbols of the gods—to mourn all those who have been lost in the last few weeks. Four banners on either side of the coffin.</p><p>"Before we proceed," his father cleared his throat. "I have a few words to share with you." The crowd waited in bated breath. "I am sorry…and I will continue being sorry till the day I die. I will not lie to you, my people. Things will get worse…a lot worse before it gets better. I beg of you all, do not lose faith. The Gods are with us! And those we have lost are with them!"</p><p>His father stood as still as a statue, letting his words sink into their hearts. Then he signaled the coffin bearers, and within a heartbeat, a column of flame sputtered to life, encircling every banner and Dorian's coffin.</p><p>"Let us all observe a moment of silence to honour our fallen." His father said, with raised arms. The entire city rising to their feet, heads hung low with their fists clutched to their hearts. A motion of respect and a symbol of farewell.</p><p>A moment frozen in time. A silence so deep and all-consuming that the crackling of the fire could be heard throughout the city. Damian wondered then, for a moment, if his heart had stopped beating. Yet, it seemed a trivial thing of no concern. Not when, he could feel Chloe's where his fingers brushed against her wrists.</p><p>"I invite all of you now to say your farewells." His father's voice taking a certain finality to it. "Do not leave anything unspoken. Anything that will weigh down your shoulders or poison your hearts. The dead are dead. But do not forget what I have said earlier. Their sacrifice is our mandate. A mandate to live, and if we are to live, we should do so without regrets. Then and only then can we move on together, united as one people, as one weapon that will strike down any who oppose us."</p><p>And with every word that slipped forth his father's tongue, the people of Hemitheopolis answered. They burned and blazed together, growing, and growing until defeat seemed an unfathomable outcome.</p><p>
  <em>Was this what true leadership looked like?</em>
</p><p>All his father had needed was a few words. Just like that, he had injected life back into his people. It was something truly special to behold. Damian could never imagine himself wielding that much power.</p><p>As one, the city filtered themselves into a queue that stretched far out the theatre. Damian and his father at its head and Chloe and Annabeth behind them.</p><p>They stood shoulder-to-shoulder in awkward silence, leading the queue into the stage house and up the steps. Costumes and props had been shoved aside hastily to make way for the procession.</p><p>With every step, Damian's feet got heavier, as if they were turning to lead. And when he was high enough to catch a glimpse of the coffin he stumbled slightly, but Chloe was there to steady him. Her hands pressing gently into the small of his back. He took a deep breath and continued up the steps. His father stayed silent, keeping a cautious eye on him.</p><p>They approached the coffin together, kneeling by it as Damian rested his palms on the cold marble. To his surprise, his father moved one of his hands atop his, squeezing it with a gentle strength.</p><p>"Dorian," his father whispered. "I'm sorry old friend. I'm sorry for failing you. I…I don't know what would have happened if-" his father choked on his words, tears threatening to spill.</p><p>
  <em>What was he talking about? What could be so terrible as to bring tears to his father's eyes…his father, Archon proper of Hemitheopolis. The hardened warrior that had barely shown his own son emotions for all these years.</em>
</p><p>Then again, tears were not weakness. Damian knew this. He always had. Hell, he was crying right now. But his father had always made it seem so.</p><p>"If you hadn't…" His father continued. "You didn't keep to our pact old friend and when I follow you to Hades, not even he can protect you from my wrath." A pained smile followed by a silence that beckoned Damian to say his piece.</p><p>"I will never be able to repay you. What you gifted in me…A second chance at life. But I will try. You were the best mentor there ever was. Chiron himself would be jealous. Farewell, Dorian."</p><p>They rose and left, leaving the hero behind with the rest of his people. People he had fought for, for twenty years. As they left the stage house, his father pulled him into a bear hug. Damian returned it without a word. In a way, he had lost one father today. It was time he better appreciated the one he had left. When he pulled away from it, his father held his gaze fiercely, a flicker of regret flashing through those eyes. A lingering finger at his cheek.</p><p>"You have her eyes you know. And her smile."</p><p>Damian's heart fluttered at the mention of his mother. It would take some time getting used to talking about her. But it was a good change—a needed one. For both his and his father's sakes.</p><p>"I kinda figured. You're not really one for smiling," he joked. His father smiled at that, eyes gleaming with something Damian could only hope was pride.</p><hr/><p>Annabeth</p><p>The funeral was nearly at an end. The last few Hemitheopolians who had yet to say their farewells were queued behind the coffin. The rest had returned to their seats while Hector reclaimed his position at the center of the Theatre. Once everyone was seated, the coffin and banners were carried away and brought to the Necropolis via chariot.</p><p>"Hemitheopolis!" Hector called for attention. "We have paid our respects to our fallen. But now we must do so for one who has yet to rise." He paused for dramatic effect. "It is time we anoint a new Polemarch. One that will lead us into the coming battles and push back the darkness" He paused again. "So, I ask you this, Hemitheopolis. Who will be your <em>champion</em>?"</p><p>Annabeth's heart skipped a beat. Did she dare hope? Could this be her moment? Her chance to finally make her mother proud and cement herself in the history books.</p><p>Within seconds, her hopes were dashed as the crowd burst into chants of "Thaddeus!" and "Damian!"</p><p><em>A fool. She was stupid to think she had a chance. Of course, the people chose brawn before brai-.</em> She stopped that bitter train of thought in its inception. It wasn't fair to Damian or even Thaddeus, who had both always been there for her when she needed them the most. She wouldn't even be alive if it weren't for them.</p><p>"I don't want it." Damian whispered over and over again as the crowd echoed loudly—</p><p>Then the sky split in half as thunder crackled through it. A bolt of lightning larger than any she had seen before, scorching trough the starry night sky, straight towards the Corinth. The crackling got louder and louder, whistling through the air then climaxing in a ground shattering explosion that reverberated through the air and lit up the world. And as soon as it begun, it ended.</p><p>Quiet, as if nothing at all had happened. As if white-hot fire hadn't rained forth from the heavens. Had they angered Zeus?</p><p>Damian rose to his feet and turned to the crowd "People of Hemitheopolis. Hear me out. There are those far more deserving of this position than I. My friend and fellow strategoi, Annabeth, for instance"</p><p>She shot him a look that was supposed to be intimidating but the warmth rushing to her cheeks betrayed her, "<em>What are you doing?"</em></p><p>His only answer, a half-smile. It made her feel worse, for even entertaining those thoughts.</p><p>"You not calling out her name tonight is exactly why she is best suited for the role. She may not be our best fighter." <em>Wow…thanks a lot Damian. "</em>But she is our sharpest mind. Trust me, I have been on the receiving end of it more than once."</p><p>The crowd burst into laughter and Chloe offered her an amused smile.</p><p>"All jokes aside…you haven't witnessed her in the council chamber. Otherwise, none of you would be laughing now. Ever since she has been appointed to the role of Strategoi, there has not been a single decision made in our council chamber that hasn't been heavily influenced by her or even born from that beautiful, crazy mind of hers." The crowd laughed again. "So, what I was trying to say is…choose her…not me. Thank you for the time."</p><p>Damian returned to his seat smoothly, as if he hadn't just commanded the attention of the entire crowd with ease. <em>Natural born leader. </em>He had always been one. Everyone could see it. Everyone but him.</p><p>"Damian," Annabeth said, trying her best to control her emotions. "I don't know what to say."</p><p>"That's a fir—Ow!" Damian exclaimed as Chloe punched him in the shoulder painfully.</p><p>"Stop teasing her Damian. She's already turning as red as a tomato—ouch!" Now it was Chloe's turn to take a hit.</p><p>Chloe wrapped her arms around their shoulders with some difficulty, owing to the fact that she was shorter than them both. "He's right you know. Every word." She rubbed Annabeth's shoulder affectionately and turned to Damian, "And I'm proud of you Damian. It takes courage to speak from your heart like that." She kissed him lightly on the cheek.</p><p>"Look who's turning into a tomato now," Annabeth sniggered.</p><p>Chloe laughed softly as a smile tugged at Damian's lips.</p><p>"It's starting," Chloe pointed to the stage where three people stood behind Hector carrying baskets-full of pottery shards—ostraka—that were used for means of balloting.</p><p>"The voting commences now," Hector pointed his scepter forward as the people carrying the baskets travelled up the stairs to hand out ostrakas to everyone. Once that was done, the people were to scratch their votes on the surface of the shard and return it to the stage where the votes would later be tallied. Even before the cold surface of the ostraka pressed against her palm, Annabeth knew who she would vote for. There was only one person who deserved to ascend to Polemarch. She bent down to retrieve the triangular cut of stone that was found beneath every seat in the theatre and scratched her vote onto the surface of the ostraka carefully. DAMIAN SON OF HECTOR.</p><hr/><p>Edited 2nd May 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Hope you guys enjoyed that. Again, I apologise for the wait.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Do leave a comment if you enjoyed the chapter</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I'd really appreciate it</strong>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you guys enjoyed that. Please leave a comment or some kudos if you enjoyed the chapter. I'd really appreciate it</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Hemitheopolis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks for all the support. Especially those who have left kudos or commented</p><p>I'm back with another chapter. Hope you enjoyed the previous one. This continues from exactly where we left of. Fun fact, they were originally meant to be one chapter. But my average chapter lengths of 5k words became nearly 10k and I got scared. :)</p><p>Also, I'm changing the summary of the fic to attract more readers. If you have the time, please leave me some tips or advice on how best to improve it. If you preferred the original summary. Let me know too. Thanks.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Percy</p><p>The world ended in a thunderous flash.</p><p>
  <em>Thalia.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh gods…</em>
</p><p>They were dead, weren't they? No one could have survived that. He'd never thought it would be so quick—dying that is—or…beautiful.</p><p>But what other word was there to describe what he had seen? A million little stars fusing into one, hurtling towards the horizon.</p><p>Then came the explosion. And along with it, an incessant ringing in his ears that seemed to almost drown out the pain. But it was that pain that signaled to him he was alive. And that meant that Thalia could have survived too. The thought was enough to bring him to his feet, his vision slowly returning to him in spots of black and white.</p><p>"<em>Thalia,"</em> Percy breathed. She was alive…singed and unconscious, but alive. He stumbled his way to her. As gently as possible, he tried to wake her, but she did not respond. Lying there, wisps of smoke curling of both her clothes and skin, she looked fragile. Something in his chest tightened at the thought. It was hard seeing her like this; this girl that had shown him such strength, and if not fierce determination, a stubbornness to never succumb.</p><p>She had saved him in more ways than one, more than once. On that hill…</p><p>
  <em>No</em>
</p><p>Now was not the time to dwell on his thoughts. Thalia needed him. He would get her to Hemitheopolis. He would get them both there. And then finally…rest. That was the word. Not peace—never again.</p><p><em>And there he went again, dwelling and dwelling</em>. <em>An idiot</em>.</p><p>He stared out to the horizon with a singular focus, oar in his hand as he guided the boat forward, cutting a path through the scores of dead fish that littered the gulf. Not a hellhound in sight. They had been vaporized. Such power…</p><p>
  <em>Could it have been her?</em>
</p><p>Percy had seen how her eyes had darkened before the flash. How the boat seemed to be the only thing untouched by the lightning in a mile's radius.</p><p>A sudden influx of fear speared through him-</p><p>She was still alive, wasn't she?</p><p>A compulsion-</p><p>He dropped the oar and turned…</p><p>She was. Of course, she was. What had gotten into him?</p><p>And it was as he asked the question, that he came to the realization.</p><p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It can't be.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anything but them.</em>
</p><p>Percy tore his gaze from Thalia, tilting his head to the sky. A part of him wish he hadn't.</p><p>They were back. A swarm of fear demons, dotting the skyline, buzzing towards him, and growing larger by the second. His resolve crumbling away with every gust of wind. Fear creeping through him, past his mind and into his heart.</p><p>Terror in every form. He was going to die. But worse, so much worse, he was letting down everyone he had ever known. His mother, Thalia, Emily, Maya.</p><p>Oh gods, he had already failed them, hadn't he? They had all made sacrifices for him, in one way or another. They had all paid for his mistakes. And what had he done with it? Accept defeat. A coward…a bloody coward. That was what he was. When death came knocking, he answered. He had not fought nearly as hard as he should have. That was the truth. It had seemed easier…more peaceful even.</p><p>If it had not been for Thalia…</p><p>He had been in death's icy grip. Yet she had pulled him back with a grip of her own. One of warmth, of the throbbing heat of life. He remembered how it felt. How that warmth had shot from where she had held him and coursed straight to his heart. He reached for that feeling again. Willing it into existence.</p><p>He would not fail her again. Thalia deserved better. They all did.</p><p>
  <em>You're a son of Poseidon, Lord of the seven seas.</em>
</p><p>Thalia's voice flooded through him. He was a demigod. He had the blood of the gods flowing within him. He had to have some sort of power…</p><p>But what good was power without the knowledge to wield it. The blood on his hands was proof enough of-</p><p>He stopped the thought in its tracks. Hoping that it was the ever-approaching fear demons that was doing this to him. He wracked his mind for something, anything at all.</p><p>Thalia. What had he seen just before the explosion? Her eyes had darkened, that he remembered. But with what? It had been anger, hadn't it? A righteous fury. From the moment he had defied her instructions till it had happened.</p><p>If it was anger that produced such power, it was anger that he needed. Easier said then done. Anger was not something that came naturally to him. Perhaps he had gotten that trait from his mother. Somehow or rather, his anger always morphed into guilt. And if not guilt, frustration. Guilt and frustration however did not seem like things that could fuel godly power.</p><p>They were getting closer. Far too close.</p><p><em>Think, Percy. Think</em>.</p><p>Fear.</p><p>He had wielded his power before. Once in the cave and the other just moments ago when he had launched Thalia out of the water. In both instances, he feared for her life.</p><p>It was hard not to feel hope surge through him. Percy knew all about fear. And to top it all off, those creatures were serving it to him on a platter. They would rue this day.</p><p>Percy threw his arms out and a column of water shot from the gulf, knocking into a couple demons, and sending them careening down into the water. And as he stood there more and more columns rose, forming a wall between him and them. And then it grew taller and taller, as all energy drained from him. Percy knew he would not be able to hold it any longer…so, he released it.</p><p>The water collapsed in a torrent, forming two waves. One barreling straight for the demons, the other towards the boat, launching it forward precariously. It was only thanks to Percy's years of practice did he maintain his balance.</p><p>The accompanying roar of water was deafening, but even without the shrieks, Percy could see that the demons who had been flying closer to the surface of the gulf had been consumed, while many had survived. It would have to be enough, was Percy's final thought as he collapsed next to Thalia.</p><hr/><p>Damian</p><p>Damian drew in the deepest of breaths. The votes had been counted. The announcement imminent. He gave Chloe's hand a squeeze. She returned it. He drew another breath, willing his heart to stop its incessant pounding. It was to no avail.</p><p><em>Polemarch</em>.</p><p>Even the thought of it tore at him. He was on a journey to redeem himself. To do that, he would have to let go of his guilt. And the only way Damian knew how, was by forging it into a promise. A promise that Dorian's sacrifice would mean something. Being Polemarch would push him towards fulfilling his promise. There was no denying it…but the thought of donning the crown. It felt like a betrayal, taking the seat of the man who had died for him only yesterday. Besides, there were those who deserved it more than him. Both Annabeth and Thaddeus had contributed more to Hemitheopolis than he had.</p><p>But, deep down, Damian knew what Dorian would have wanted. So, there he stood, lost amidst a silent battle. Chloe shot him an earnest glance and whispered, "Damian. Whatever happens, happens. It is in the hands of the people now."</p><p>Damian, managed a half-smile and whispered back. "As long as you're there with me. I'll be okay."</p><p>Chloe smacked his arm playfully, then rested her head on his shoulder, giving him a clear view of Annabeth. She looked as nervous as he felt, one hand clasped within Chloe's. Annabeth glanced at their intertwined hands and then back, smiling knowingly. Damian knew exactly what she was insinuating. Where would they both be without Chloe? She was the source of their strength.</p><p>Three raps of the Archon's scepter was enough to silence the crowd again.</p><p>"Hemitheopolis has spoken!" his father roared. "I hereby name thee…Damian, Polemarch of Hemitheopolis."</p><p>The theatre shook as the crowd cheered his name. A hundred voices behind him, spiraling down the stairs and forming a cloak that rested too heavily on his shoulders. The responsibility of an entire people. It took every fiber of his strength to not collapse into a worthless heap. His body moved, but his mind didn't, still frozen in disbelief.</p><p>He felt the warmth of Chloe's presence and saw the genuine smile that had formed on Annabeth's lips. He had expected some sort of lingering jealously or disappointment. But there she sat, offering him her full support. As he left his seat, he brushed her shoulder affectionately. There was no need for words.</p><p>The thrum of the crowd turned into an incomprehensible buzz as Damian approached the stage. In fact, the entire world melted into a incomprehensible buzz. As if he were not quite in his body. He stepped onto the stage and was greeted with a look of equal pride and sorrow. His father whispered instructions into his ear…also incomprehensible. But his body took over, steering him into position. Kneeling before the people.</p><p>After what felt like forever, his father brushed a thumb across his forehead—an ancient blessing. Damian felt it then, even more suffocating than before. The weight of his responsibility, in the form of a crown, resting unassumingly on his head.</p><hr/><p>Chloe</p><p>Chloe's heart ached for Damian. He was still so young and had already been through too much. It was cruel, making him Polemarch just after he had witnessed the death of his predecessor. She knew why it had to be him. It was always meant to be…</p><p>That didn't stop her from cursing the gods, which of course, she immediately regretted. But then, another look at Damian, at how fragile he looked, and she was cursing them again.</p><p>It was a sad smile that made its way to her lips when Damian was crowned. Because the truth was that the crown had nestled itself so impeccably on his head that there was no denying it. Damian was now Polemarch, and he had never looked more regal.</p><p>He rose to his feet, standing next to his father. Brown and silver crowns glimmering as they raised their linked hands.</p><p>A low brassy tone reverberated through the theatre. For one painfully long heartbeat, Chloe had thought it the Horn of Hades. That more death had arrived. But no, it was the Cornucopia. It sounded again. And for those few moments, it was if Hemitheopolis in its entirety held its breath. Fear spreading through it like wildfire. Fear of a third consecutive sounding…</p><p>It never came. Thank the gods. Two soundings of the Cornucopia were a concern but not nearly as earth shattering as a third. A third would mean that the city was under a full-scale attack, a second only a monster sighting. Annabeth was already pulling her towards the stage, where Hector was shouting orders.</p><p>"Damian, prepare a group of fighters, quick as you can!"</p><p>Hector was interrupted as a soldier, Chloe recognized her as Lydia, a daughter of Hermes, hurtled onto the stage, stopping for a moment to catch her breath. She bowed and begun spouting out words, "Archon, a boat has moored itself near the Western Gate. At first, we thought it insignificant, only a small sailor's boat with two people on it. It could've been anyone. But then it all went wrong. Hellhounds appeared! A whole pack of them followed by a group of winged creatures."</p><p>"Go now," Hector signaled Damian. "Take your best fighters, whoever is here and ready and follow her back to the gate."</p><p>Damian turned to her and before he could say a thing, "I'm in." Chloe said, raising her wrist to show that her bracelets were with her.</p><p>"Me too," Annabeth said brandishing her hunting knives.</p><p>Damian raised his brows. "Always itching for a fight huh."</p><p>"Can you blame us?" Annabeth grinned.</p><p>They rushed out the theatre, Damian rallying anyone who was prepared for a fight. By the time they left the premise, Damian had gathered a small squadron of warriors. The sword in his hand belonging to a young inexperienced warrior who had insisted to fight. Damian had knelt before her like he had his people and explained that without her weapon he would not be able to protect city. The girl had nodded furiously and proudly. He was good with children…</p><p>Chloe fought the blush that rose at the thought.</p><p>They were approaching the Western Gate, still at full pace. A carbon copy of the Northern Gate had it not been half the size. It made sense, she supposed, the Western Gate was rarely used, only leading to a small clearing that dipped straight into the gulf. Most returning Hemitheopolians that came from the west would sail straight through the Gates of Poseidon Epoptes instead. The largest gates of the city, buried in the gulf, rising from the seabed and soaring to the skies. It was what closed of the lagoon of Hemitheopolis from the outside world.</p><p>The instant they reached the barracks, Damian begun barking out commands. "Lydia, to the battlements. Tell the guards to ready their bows. Do not fire until I give the order. We'll have to wait till the barrier's down." Damian then turned back to those who had gathered. "Ready your arms, my brethren. It's been awhile since we've got ourselves some new recruits. This is our chance to bolster our ranks. On my mark," Damian raised his blade.</p><p>"Three," Chloe's fingers trembled at the thought of a fight—a <em>real</em> one. Sparring was all fine and good, but the real deal…it haunted her to no end. She had witnessed the aftermath of these battles countless times and it never ended prettily. The images that came with her thoughts sending a shudder through her heart.</p><p>"Two," Chloe flexed her fingers and turned her wrist, willing her bracelets to transform.</p><p>"One," She shifted into battle stance, her chakrams raised in challenge. She looked to her right, where Annabeth and Damian had done the same. This was it, what they had trained for.</p><p>"Onward!" The gates parted as he said it. And the air shimmered as the barrier of Hemitheopolis collapsed, the accompanying blast of wind sending her hair billowing behind her as she gulped down her fear. There was no reason to be afraid. Annabeth and Damian were at her side. And if she could trust anyone in this world, it was them. They would protect her, and she would protect them.</p><p>However, she would be lying if she said she hadn't faltered. But how could she not when what greeted them was hell. Hellhounds everywhere, larger than she had ever imagined them to be and worse, those grotesque winged creatures that hovered above. Their eyes, devoid of emotion, red and yellow orbs that bored into her soul, filling her to the brim with unwanted feelings. Those of fear and death.</p><p>It was a struggle to peel her eyes away from the horror, but when she did, they landed on Damian. She could tell he was struggling too, but he did not falter, not even for a second, marching forward with a ferocity that matched their adversaries. She followed him and so did the rest of the warriors.</p><hr/><p>Percy</p><p>Percy woke with a thud to his head as the boat crashed onto land. Thalia was slumped next to him, still unconscious. He tried waking her, but she remained in that state. If it were not for the soft puffs of breath that curled onto his arm…</p><p>Percy looked away to distract himself from his thoughts.</p><p>
  <em>Hope.</em>
</p><p>That was what he saw. What it had to be. A walled city emblazoned in white and gold. Oh how he wished Thalia were awake to see this. To see what they both had suffered so much for. It was worth it. Thalia would have thought so too. The journey, of course, not what came before.</p><p>His gaze returned to her. Was this the cost of their powers. The payment a mortal makes to summon godly power. If he had not released the wave when he had…</p><p>It had felt like he was being incinerated from within. Again, he turned to the city. And this time what truly caught his eye were the gates-</p><p>His mind could barely comprehend the craftmanship that was put into it. A sight truly magnificent to behold. A row of golden rungs emerging from the gulf and rising high to the sky, ending in sharp points. Each rung varied in height, resembling a wave…</p><p>That was when it hit him. The two marble statues that stood above the twin pillars that flanked the gate. A bearded man, with a trident held out before him.</p><p>Lord Poseidon…His father.</p><p>A strange thing to behold. Strange that he would have seen a hundred statues of his father before meeting him. Stranger still that he was a son of someone that had <em>this</em> built in his name.</p><p>Carefully, Percy gathered Thalia in his arms, brushing her hair away from her face with his thumbs. He rose from the boat, barely keeping his balance. He had only taken one step onto the land when it all went wrong.</p><p>All the fear he had ever felt, coursing through his veins. He ran towards the gates-</p><p>But within the shadow of the city, materialized a herd of Hellhounds. Far fewer than before, yet still too many. Pinned between fear and death. Percy laid Thalia on the sand and stood above her, willing his ring to transform. He flicked his eyes to those twin statues and offered a silent prayer.</p><p>
  <em>Protect her…Please</em>
</p><p>Nothing. No reply. No tidal wave that wiped away his enemies. Percy wondered why he bothered.</p><p>The creatures closed in on them and all he could do was spin his trident and scream in warning. Useless. They approached unfazed. He managed a jab at the closest hellhound and drew blood. It howled and swiped at him, but he was faster. It was hopeless. Even if he took out ten of them or twenty. Eventually he would tire, eventually he would leave a opening…</p><p>The world froze, for just a heartbeat, as the air shimmered with a burst of energy. One that fought against the forces of fear and death, pushing them back an inch. Percy searched for the source of the energy. There, a small group of warriors, behind them a pair of golden doors and in front a man with a bronze crown.</p><p>The figures charged towards Percy, and their leader shouted, "Fire!" as arrows rained from the walls and straight towards him. Creatures fell all around him but not a single arrow came close to him or Thalia. The creatures that survived were met with a hurricane of bronze blades of all shapes and sizes, as the warriors tore through the battlefield with finesse.</p><p>"Go!" ordered a green-eyed girl who was engaged in battle. She fought with a certain elegance, dancing past the creature's swipes, hair flowing with her movements. She turned away and threw her weapon, a sort of discus, which shot through the air and buried itself into another creature's neck. It collapsed to reveal the crowned man, who thanked her with a warm smile.</p><p>The girl turned back to Percy, "Through the gates, she needs a healer."</p><p>Oh gods. She was referring to Thalia. Percy gathered Thalia into his arms once again and raced towards the gates, lungs bursting from the effort. Everything that came after was a blur. He remembered running further into the city, past fields, and buildings; how his knees, began to buckle; how he handed Thalia to someone else before both his lungs and knees gave way, darkness consuming him.</p><hr/><p>Edited 2nd May 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>There it is. My storylines have collided and so have my characters. This is one of the first scenes I thought of in the fic's inception and not gonna lie I was ridiculously excited for my OCs to meet Perlia</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Do leave a comment if you enjoyed the chapter</strong>
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  <strong>I'd really appreciate it</strong>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Heritage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks for the outpouring of love on the past few chapters.</p><p>Yes. Again. I'm back. I know. Unbelievable. Consistency. :)</p><p>My backlog is slowly and steadily building so I'm confident that I wont disappear for as long as before.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thalia</p><p>A severe throbbing was all Thalia felt when she woke. It was absolute agony, making an act as simple as opening her eyes a tumultuous one.</p><p>
  <em>Where was she?</em>
</p><p>Somewhere cold. That was all she knew because past the throbbing, that was all she felt. She wriggled her toes and fingers—trying to regain any sense of feeling. She succeeded, fingers wrapping around a comforting warmth. Through equal measure of effort and pain, she raised herself to find Percy asleep on a stool at her bedside, his hand the warmth she had felt.</p><p>"He's been here the entire time," A girl with the softest features and a smile that matched, remarked. Thalia did not know what to say to that, to the warmth that spread through her. "My name's Chloe by the way-"</p><p>Percy stirred, oblivious to everything but Thalia. She tried not to notice. He squeezed her hand, flashing a nervous smile. "Hey…how you feeling?"</p><p>"Good," she said. "Tired, but good."</p><p>"It's a miracle that you're in such fine condition." Chloe said. "Your body was so exerted from whatever happened that it was struggling to fight of the infection in your shoulder."</p><p>Percy looked at her again with such guilt in his eyes. "Thalia, I'm so-"</p><p>"Again huh. One of us bedridden, while the other worries. We really need to stop finding ourselves in this position," Thalia joked, interrupting his apology.</p><p>He laughed and added, "So it'll be my turn next I assume."</p><p>She shook her head, "No more I say. No more."</p><p>Chloe eyed them, lips curling in amusement. "We'll have to go to the council chamber now. The Aeropagus is waiting to greet you."</p><p>Thalia pouted and groaned, "I just woke up. I don't even know what happened."</p><p>"I'll fill you in on the way there," Percy said, offering his arm. She sighed and gritted her teeth through the pain of the motion. Her legs wobbled the moment she placed her weight on them, but Percy was there to catch her. She leaned into him, steadying herself and noticed that he had not flinched when she had gripped the back of his shirt.</p><p>"Your back's feeling better?"</p><p>"Yeah, Chloe here patched me up good. She's a great healer."</p><p>Chloe flashed him a humble smile.</p><p>"Thank you," Thalia held her gaze, shivering slightly from the cold. "For everything."</p><p>"Oh," Percy reached into the satchel at her bedside. "I almost forgot," he said as he rummaged through it. He pulled out her cloak, and her breath hitched in her throat. It was in pristine condition, as if it had never been torn—or travelled half the continent even. "Here," he said, wrapping the cloak around her shoulders. She was once again unusually aware of the warmth of his fingers against her skin. She looked at him, trying her best to convey what it is she felt.</p><p>He rubbed at his neck and gave her that nervous look of his, "My mom taught me how to sew. Sorry again for ruining it."</p><p>
  <em>And there he went again. Apologizing for everything. It was infuriating. How he always blamed himself. How he did not see his own worth.</em>
</p><p>Chloe, deciding to break the tension, asked "So…how'd you guys meet?"</p><p>"She saved my life." Percy said</p><p>"You saved mine too." She stared him down</p><p>"Only because you saved me first." He stared back</p><p>"Remind me again, why you guys are fighting?" Chloe smiled coyly.</p><p>Warmth flooded to Thalia's cheeks as she broke eye contact with Percy. They left the infirmary and walked in silence for a time.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Percy said, eyeing her as they walked.</p><p>
  <em>Really? Again?</em>
</p><p>Thalia was about to burst in frustration when she met his gaze. They burned with that sincerity of his. That certain strength she had become so accustomed to. She would just have to get used to it, she supposed. It was just the way he was. She wondered why it made her angry. It didn't make sense. Not really. Perhaps it was the way she had been raised. Kept apart from others her age, those she met posed as opponents—challengers to her right to be a Spartan warrior. The only affection she received, from Cyril. Even that kept at a bare minimum during the Agoge. Training came first…always.</p><p>"You know, you don't have to apologise for everything."</p><p>"I'm sor-" he caught himself, hands raised in defeat. "Alright, fair point. I'll try not to apologise the next time I wrong someone."</p><p>"That's not what I meant, and you know it." She glared at him.</p><p>"Oh, I know," he winked. "I'm just messing with you."</p><p>She rolled her eyes. Chloe was in front of them now, walking briskly towards the council chamber. Thalia and Percy following a few paces behind.</p><p>"So…you were supposed to fill me in." Thalia prompted</p><p>"Yeah...do you remember how you fainted?" he asked. She shook her head. "You kinda called down the largest lightning bolt I have ever seen."</p><p>A vague memory. The sky lighting up, her skin prickling. No—that couldn't have been her, could it? Deep down, she knew the answer. Along with those vague memories, came others. Her anger. The energy that seeped out of her as she screamed.</p><p>"So, that would mean I'm…" she gulped</p><p>"A daughter of Zeus." Percy finished for her. "King of the gods, huh. Guess that makes you a princess." He exaggerated a bow. She punched him in the shoulder.</p><p>"What happened next?"</p><p>"Well, I kind of summoned a tidal wave that brought us here." He splayed his arms. "I still can't believe it. We actually made it. We're here. We did that."</p><p>"We did, didn't we?" Thalia echoed his disbelief, taking a wide sweeping glance of the city. A large group of people had gathered, eyeing them both with great interest. From the crowd, only one approached. A girl with bouncing blonde curls.</p><p>"Chloe!" she called, as she approached. She was built athletically, standing taller than them all. The girl scanned both Percy and her from head to toe, her cold, calculating gaze, sending a shiver down Thalia's spine. Perhaps it was just the weather. Either way, the girl was clearly not someone to mess with. Yet, just as Thalia made that mental note, the girl smiled and all traces of hostility vanished, leaving behind only genuine curiosity.</p><p>"Our wounded soldiers over here are Percy and Thalia," Chloe introduced</p><p>"Annabeth—nice to meet you," the girl said. "I'll go and inform Damian that the council can be convened."</p><p>"It's alright, I'll go." Chloe said. "Show them around, will you?" Annabeth nodded and sent Chloe packing.</p><p>"So, this is our Agora."</p><p>Now that she had the time, Thalia drank in the sights. The sheer wonder of the place. There weren't as many people or stalls as the Agora in Sparta. But what it lacked in activity it made up in splendor. Not quite the right word, but something of its sort. Clean, perhaps. She had never seen nature seem so well preserved, blending perfectly with the architecture. Oak and fir scattered through marble and stone.</p><p>Right in front of her, under an archway, a path that led out of the agora. Flanking the archway, two towering marble temples. Ornate, the only word to describe them. Golden threads spiraling down the pillars. Before the temples, two marble statues within a fountain. One a woman with a bronze scepter and a silver diadem, a peacock by her side. The other, a golden-crowned man that wielded a lightning bolt. Thalia swallowed hard. Standing before her were the king and queen of the gods. Zeus and Hera-</p><p>Her father…</p><p>It was strange, finally putting a face to her anger. If only it weren't an inanimate one. Then perhaps she'd get some sort of reaction when she screamed and cried. No—she would not. When she met him, there was only one thing she would say.</p><p><em>You are no father of mine</em>.</p><p>That anger she had felt on the boat returned, quickly morphing into sadness. So, it was her mother that was a mortal.</p><p>Why?</p><p>Why should she care? She had Cyril. Perhaps that was exactly why. She had always had a father, but never a mother. And a small part of her thought that knowing…just knowing who she was would have been enough. A name, if not a reason. An idea, even.</p><p>She cursed the gods again. It was easier to curse them all then to curse a mother she had never known. A mother she would never know.</p><p>"Don't mind them," Annabeth gestured at the crowd that had gathered. "It's been a while since we've gotten new demigods."</p><p>"Is everyone here a demigod?" Percy asked.</p><p>"Yeah, first or second generation that is."</p><p>"Second-generation?" Thalia raised an eyebrow.</p><p>"A child of a demigod," Annabeth explained. "Or two, I suppose."</p><p>"Could I be one?" Thalia asked, immediately regretting it. She must have looked awfully foolish.</p><p>"It's not impossible," Annabeth scratched her chin. "But it's highly unlikely. You see, most demigods live in Hemitheopolis their whole lives. There are the rare exceptions, of course. Some fall in love with mortals, others leave for a sense of adventure or purpose. Even then, it is frowned upon—endangering mortals. Did you know either of your parents?"</p><p>Not a clear-cut answer but Thalia shook her head. Again, she wondered why she asked the question. What would it change? Did a part of her want two mortal parents to blame? Was that it? Was it easier to hate something that wasn't immortal or all-powerful? That didn't seem right. It was easy enough hating Zeus. Then what? A possibility of finding them and forming a normal family, perhaps? A ridiculous notion.</p><hr/><p>Percy</p><p>Percy hated seeing Thalia like this. That fragility he had seen earlier lingering…splintering as she ducked her head. Her blue eyes shattering like the sky had when she had called forth her powers. He wanted to comfort her, yet he did not know how. But he would keep his promise. He would not push her into the depths. Not until he was there to catch her. Not until she felt comfortable enough to be caught. All he knew was that he never wanted to see that look on her face ever again.</p><p>She got her head up though, after a moment. She looked better, as though she had resolved an inner conflict. His heart skipped a beat when she smiled. She reminded him of his mother, how strong she was in the face of adversity. How strong she had been that day. When her world had ended, and everyone and everything around her had crumbled. How she had so easily faced those demons and given up her life for his. Not wanting to dwell on the gaping hole in his heart, he smiled away the pain.</p><p>"That's a lot of demigods," Percy remarked.</p><p>"There used to be more," Annabeth said, a trace of anguish in her voice. A loud ringing filled the air. "Let's go, the council is in session. I'll show you guys around after."</p><p>The doors to the council chamber had a H, emblazoned into it. He had seen the symbol before. On the gates he had sprinted through.</p><p>"It's the insignia of Hemitheopolis," Annabeth explained. "The symbols circling the H represent the Olympians."</p><p>Percy recognized a few of the symbols. The most obvious ones being the trident and lightning bolt. The doors were pushed open by the guards before he could decipher the rest. The chamber was vast, but not because of its size but rather its emptiness. All that stood within it, a stone table and around it a wooden one that curved in a "U". Around the outer table sat the council—at least a portion of them—seeing that there were some empty seats.</p><p>"It's good to see the that two of you are doing well," said the man at the end of the table. He spoke with an air of authority and sat beside him was the boy that had led their rescue. Following Percy's gaze, the man continued, "Ah yes, some introductions are in due. I am Hector, Archon Proper of Hemitheopolis and this here is my son, Damian, Polemarch. This-" he drifted his arm in a wide angle, "-is our council. Please, take a seat—anywhere will do."</p><p>Percy and Thalia nodded respectfully and joined the two positions by Annabeth.</p><p>"If it's not too much to ask," Hector began. "We would like to hear your story—all of it." It wasn't a choice. That much was clear. But the man seemed kind enough. Thalia started, recounting how she was attacked in Sparta. That hellhounds had materialized in the marketplace and pursued her across the countryside. Her story had holes. Percy had an inkling why.</p><p>"And how did you know to come to Hemitheopolis?" Hector's tone, frank. He had spotted the gaps then.</p><p>"She didn't," Percy interjected, sensing Thalia's discomfort. "I told her about it when we met." Thalia shot him an appreciative half-smile while Hector on the other hand, did not seem entirely convinced. Percy had never been a good liar, but the Archon did not push the matter.</p><p>"Then, I pose you the same question"</p><p>"I lived in Kastelli."</p><p>"You've come a long way, my boy."</p><p>"My village was attacked by those demons." Damian, Hector's son whispered something into his ear. "My mother told me to flee here. That it was the only place safe for me." Percy continued his story without further interruptions up till the point Thalia had saved him. She took over, seeing that he had been unconscious at that point.</p><p>"He was losing too much blood," Thalia explained. "Fortunately, a healer offered to help us. She patched us up and gave us supplies."</p><p>Damian cleared his throat to stop her. "Was her name Maya?"</p><p>Thalia and Percy nodded in unison. At the confirmation, Damian buried his face in his hand, massaging his temples. There was history there. That much was obvious. It was grief and regret that seemed to linger in the Polemarch's slow, deliberate motions. And when Percy scanned the room, the same guilt in Chloe's and Annabeth's movements. Damian gestured for them to continue. Thalia obliged, recounting the journey from Maya's hut to the cave. Murmurs spread along the table as she mentioned his trident.</p><p>"A son of Poseidon," Hector remarked. "It's been awhile. Care to show us your weapon?"</p><p>Percy heard no mockery in his tone, so he obliged and willed his ring to transform. The crystal melted into liquid, more than it should have contained, and reformed into his trident.</p><p>"Atlantean Crystal!" Annabeth exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "I've read all about it. It's a rare crystal that can only be found in the depths of Atlantis. It is said to be stronger than even celestial bronze and can be condensed magically. That explains the ring." Noticing that nobody cared for her little lesson and that the majority were staring blankly at her, she apologised—the tips of her ears turning red. Percy felt bad for her, after all, the information had been interesting—at least to him.</p><p>Percy took over the tale once more. Detailing their flight from the cave to the city. He left out some things of course. Things that even he had yet to process. Again, it seemed the Archon's calculating stare missed nothing. He continued, recounting how Thalia had called down lightning. Percy had not wanted to share that. It seemed personal. But Percy knew, <em>that</em>, he could not get away with hiding. Not when they must have all seen it.</p><p>The revelation caused a ripple of murmurs. Percy could have sworn he'd seen a flitter of fear in the archon's eyes. Thalia though, tried making herself invisible, suddenly being wholly invested in analyzing the stone table.</p><p>"Then we arrived at the shore and the rest is history." Percy finished.</p><p>"Good," Hector said. "Could you do us a favor and kindly dismiss yourselves for now. We'll need some time to discuss matters. Just ask the guards at the door to guide you to the Dining Hall. You must be hungry." It wasn't a question. Percy rose to his feet and waited for Thalia, then made his way out.</p><hr/><p>Damian</p><p>Damian's chest still ached from the memory. The day that Thaddeus, Lily, and himself had visited Maya. The day they brought her Theron's mangled body. The day they told her that her son had died and that he had been a hero. He remembered how she looked when Lily had said it. Like she was ready to spit venom at them all.</p><p>
  <em>I didn't want a hero! I wanted a son!</em>
</p><p>Her words rang in his mind, a painful reminder of what this life entailed. One that had been seared into him since that day. He was pulled out of his thoughts as the doors slammed shut.</p><p>His father sighed. "We have to address the strange circumstances that have been presented to us today," He started. "For two demigods to arrive at the same time and for them both to be older than twelve…it begs questions, doesn't it?</p><p>"Chloe was thirteen when she arrived," Damian pointed out.</p><p>"She was accounted for, during that year."</p><p>She had been, of course, having waited till Annabeth was of age.</p><p>"Even if there were someone who could vouch for their stories, there is a large difference between <em>thirteen</em> and them." His father cracked his knuckles. "And to top it all off, for them both to be children of the elder gods…"</p><p>That Damian admitted was strange. It had been a long time since either Zeus or Poseidon had sired a demigod.</p><p>"Four to five years unaccounted for. How in god's name did demigods as powerful as them avoid discovery. Avoid the endless pursuit of monsters."</p><p>"What are you <em>implying?</em>" Damian challenged, holding his father's gaze.</p><p>"I am not implying anything. I am merely stating the facts!" His father replied, temper flaring. He was clearly not used to being challenged so openly. Damian felt guilty for it, especially since their relationship was finally on the mend. But his father did have that effect on him at times. They were both to blame. But things would get better. Damian would ensure it.</p><p>"It is worth looking into," Annabeth started. Damian narrowed his eyes at her, but she continued. "I'm not saying anything against them. I trust them. They have been through enough as it is. But you have to admit, something larger is at play. Those hellhounds weren't normal. I've never known them to be so powerful—to be able to affect the mind in that manner. To fill it with thoughts of death. Something about them seemed older…more ancient. And don't let me start on those winged demons," she shuddered at the memory.</p><p>Damian knew exactly what she was talking about. Fear and Death. It was his fear of death that had led to Dorian's and it was those feelings that had tried invading his mind on the shore.</p><p>"And there's still more" His father added, matter-of-factly. "The girl-"</p><p>"Her name is Thalia." Chloe jumped in, her tone none too pleasant. Damian's chest swelled with pride. She was not one to speak out. But she was doing so for him. His father seemed to be losing his patience now, but he took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing.</p><p>"<em>Thalia</em> has exhibited power like we have never seen before. You all saw it clear as day. Felt it even, as the ground beneath your feet shook and white-hot fire poured from the sky. Unprecedented and far exceeding that of a demigod." Nobody argued against the fact, so he continued. "Now, I am not saying they are a threat. I am saying that we cannot be certain of what they are. We can only guess what has happened to them all those years they were out there. After all, they are not telling us the truth. At least, not the entire truth."</p><p>"We know that they're on our side," Annabeth said. "That's for certain. They were pursued for over half the continent by creatures of the dark. The enemy of our enemy can only be our ally."</p><p>"All we <em>know </em>is that there is army of monsters gathering in our backyard and that a darkness is stirring." His father persisted. "What we don't know however, is how that is linked to the events we have heard today. There have never been sightings of these creatures before. We would have heard of it."</p><p>"Can't you see how obvious it is," Damian said, finally losing his patience. "Whatever it is this—this stirring darkness, it's afraid of them. Of the power they hold. And it has chosen to wipe them of the playing field."</p><p>"Didn't it cross your mind that I have already considered the possibility." His father replied coldly. "I am doing my due diligence as Archon. That is all. In time, you will learn that every threat has to be assessed no matter how unlikely. It's what leaders do."</p><p><em>Assess every threat.</em> He understood now what his father was trying to convey. He finished his father's thoughts. "If their enemy is so powerful to command such creatures, who's to say the barrier will hold them back."</p><p>"Exactly my point," Hector continued. "Even if the barrier can withstand this ancient enemy, which it should, after all, it has stood as long as time; who's to say it'll stop at that. It could continue sending these creatures to terrorise the nearby city-states and villages."</p><p>The Aeropagus was quiet. The members now realizing the gravity of the decision they were about to make.</p><p>"How are we to answer Corinth and Megara when they come knocking? Asking us why we have left them for dead. Why we have forsaken our ancient promise. So…I ask of my council now, what will we do?"</p><p>Damian hated himself for what he was about to say. It was not in the least fair to Percy or Thalia. But a leader had to make the tough calls. "We send them out on a quest, as soon as possible. Accompanied with experience fighters that can protect them."</p><p>"If, I may suggest," Annabeth said. "I would like them to join me on my quest to Megara and Thebes."</p><p>The council pondered the matter for a moment before Hector spoke. "A valid suggestion. I had thought to send Damian and Chloe with you. Who better to protect them, then the three of you?" Hector smiled. "Let us vote on it." The entire council raised their hands in unison. "So, it is decided. For everyone's safety, it's best they keep moving. Council dismissed."</p><hr/><p>Edited 2nd May 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Just wondering, did anyone wonder if Theron was Maya's son?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Do leave a comment if you enjoyed the chapter</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I'd really appreciate it</strong>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. A Long-Awaited Union</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks for all the love on the past few chapters.</p><p>Seriously people, thank you. Keep the comments and kudos coming :)</p><p>Also just to clarify, Percy and Thalia are indeed 16 in this story while Annabeth is 17 and Damian and Chloe are 18.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Annabeth</p><p>"Since you guys have already heard the brave and awe-inspiring tale of one, Percy, and his fellow adventurer, Thalia…" Percy grinned, nudging Thalia by the shoulder. She rolled her eyes at him, but Annabeth could see the makings of a smile. A tired but genuine one.</p><p>Annabeth was seated across them, Chloe and Damian at her side. They had decided to join Percy and Thalia for an early breakfast—or a late dinner, she supposed. A long night that had bled into dawn.</p><p>There was something about Percy she couldn't quite place. Behind his grin, something akin to…</p><p>It was a rare thing, for her not to be able to read someone. Then again, she had always been better at reading books and scrolls than people. But whatever it was she had thought she'd seen, was gone. And she couldn't help but feel it was due to the attention he placed upon Thalia.</p><p>There was a wildness to them. Differing in their own ways. Restrained, maybe, but clear enough that anyone who cared to look would realise. Perhaps it was what they had been through. It had been a long time since she had seen new arrivals, especially those with as harrowing tales as theirs. Or perhaps it was because they were who they were. A son of Poseidon and a daughter of Zeus. The power they held between them was unnerving to say the least.</p><p>"How did you guys arrive at Hemitheopolis?" Percy asked. "Did your tales include as much swashbuckling as ours?" He wriggled his eyebrows playfully. <em>There</em>—there it was again. Behind all his smiles, genuine as they were, an emptiness. An emptiness she had seen in Thalia earlier, and one she herself had lived with for a long time. The loss of a parent. Worse, the thought of being happy again. There were not many things in this world that could fill it or heal it even, and time was not one of them.</p><p>"I was born here," Damian murmured, staring at his soup as if it were the most interesting thing that had ever grazed his table. She could tell he was thinking about the meeting. His first as Polemarch. She would have been in the same condition had it been she who had ascended. Hector had been testing him—toying even, to see if Damian was one willing to make the hard decisions; if he had what it took to lead. And Damian had lashed out, letting his heart rule over his mind, only to then have to make a heart-wrenching decision. One that went against everything he believed.</p><p>"Right, the Archon is your father." Percy said, chewing a mouthful of bread. "That's cool." Damian did not reply, still staring into his bowl. Percy, having realised the sensitive territory he was threading upon, stopped.</p><p>Annabeth dove in. "Chloe and I arrived about five years ago now. We travelled from Athens." Annabeth summarized, not wanting to dwell on the pain of the past. <em>Oh gods, Theron.</em></p><p>"You guys knew each other from before?" Thalia piped up, suddenly interested in the conversation.</p><p>"We're basically sisters," Chloe said. Something swelled within her chest. A warmth that started at the heart and swarmed her in an instant. <em>Sisters. </em>They had always been so, she supposed. In all the ways that mattered. More than that even, for surely a single word did not have the ability to encapsulate what it is they shared. Yet it was that word that echoed within her again. She had never heard Chloe refer to them as such.</p><p>
  <em>Sisters.</em>
</p><p>She liked it—she liked it very much.</p><p>"Our fathers were historians," Chloe added. "They worked closely on many projects."</p><p>This was it. The one part Annabeth hated about meeting new people. The painful memories that were somehow or rather destined to be trudged up. First Theron, now her father.</p><p>"Is it just me, or is everyone here staring at us?" Percy stole a quick glance over his shoulder. There weren't many Hemitheopolians in the dining hall, most having drifted off to their respective rooms to end this emotionally draining night. But those who were there, stared.</p><p>"It's not every day we get a child of the elder gods," Annabeth explained. "Two at once is unprecedented."</p><p>"Are there others?" Thalia asked, leaning in. Both her and Percy seeming not at all comfortable at the fact.</p><p>"One," Annabeth answered. "Thaddeus, a son of Hades. He's on a quest now."</p><p>Damian, having finally peeled his eyes away from his bowl, addressed them. "Speaking about quests," he sighed. "There's no easy way to put this…the two of you'll be joining us on ours."</p><p>"Oh," Percy said, almost pouting. But it turned into a smile quickly enough. "I suppose it's only fair we contribute. After all, you did save our lives. Thanks again for that by the way. When do we leave?"</p><p>"Dawn. Tomorrow. We'll be briefed tonight."</p><p>Annabeth could see it in the way Percy's shoulders sagged and the way his lips twitched in an attempt to hide his frown—he was tired of it all. Thalia on the other hand, wore her emotions on her sleeve, eyes positively burning with rage. Damian shifted uncomfortably under her glare. Annabeth didn't fancy being the one to have to tell them that this was only the beginning. Yet something told her, they had the strength or at least will for this life.</p><p>"It's how we do things here," Annabeth chimed in, sympathetic of Damian's plight. "Ever since the recent increase in monster activity, all new recruits are immediately sent on quests to test their mettle." There was no better way to serve a lie than sprinkled with the truth.</p><p>"<em>Test our mettle," </em>Thalia's glare turned on her, her voice a low, dangerous growl. Before Annabeth could apologise for a potential case of poor phrasing, Thalia slammed her hands on the table, sending splatters of Damian's beloved soup flying through the air. "All my life I've been tested. To what end? I made it here didn't I."</p><p>A shadow passed over them then, as Thunder roiled within a newly formed dark cloud. Gods, she was losing control. She had to be stopped-</p><p>"Thalia," Percy breathed, his hand atop hers in a gentle but firm grip. She glared at him too, for just a moment, before taking a deep breath and pulling her hand away from his. The sky cleared and so they finished their meals in silence.</p><p>Chloe was the first to be done, already rising to her feet. "Excuse me, will you?" She shot them a polite smile. "I fear I have ignored my patients for far too long. I'll catch up with you all later."</p><p>"Wait—wait for me," Damian called, rushing to leave his seat, and stumbling in the process. "As newly-appointed polemarch, I should probably visit the injured and thank them for their services."</p><p>Annabeth smirked knowingly. He was acting even more nervous than usual around her. It was about damn time.</p><hr/><p>Thalia</p><p>"You must be tired," Annabeth said. "I'll show you to your rooms."</p><p>Thalia was about to argue the fact. No one, barring herself, had any right to decide how she felt. But she was, wasn't she, tired that is. Every muscle of hers ached in tempo with the pounding in her head. Her anger, not at all helping her case. She knew Annabeth and Damian had meant well. But this anger of hers…</p><p>She knew now why the Spartans valued mastery of one's emotion above all else. Once you lose control of it—<em>truly </em>lose control, there seemed to be no return, it spilled and spilled out of you, making itself known to everyone and everything.</p><p>She should have been excited. After all, this what she had trained her whole life for. Perhaps not in the form she had expected, yet, nonetheless, a chance to prove herself.</p><p>So, why? Why did she feel this way? And why did it seem that all she ever did now was to ask herself that question. What was wrong with her? But to get a hold of herself, to restore even a portion of control, she had to delve. That was all there was to it. So, delve she did.</p><p>Was she angry because a part of her felt like this could be home? That maybe, one day, it may surpass Sparta. The thought had cropped up. That had always been the ancient promise of Sparta. In exchange for glory, for the chance of being a protector, one's life and perhaps the heavier price, one's freedom. But here, in this city of heroes, a place where she could have everything she had ever wanted. To fight and yet retain the freedom she had always longed for. To belong.</p><p>Didn't that make her a terrible person? Wasn't it as good as spitting on Cyril's grave? Only he didn't have a grave, did he? Having died alone, far away from the land he loved. Having given his life for hers.</p><p>Or rather, was the anger born of the fact that suddenly—she could not remember when or how it had changed—being safe seemed of higher importance than some arbitrary proof of worthiness. She hoped it was her exhaustion talking. It had to be. Or else, it would mean that she was a hypocrite, preaching to Percy that it was worth being a hero only then to be a coward. One that was willing to let her powers and talents rot while others suffered. Not that, that had ever been Percy's worry. His was self-deprecatory in nature, believing that by trying he only caused hurt.</p><p>"Thalia," Annabeth called her. She must've been staring a long while. "I'm sorry about what I said. I should have phrased-"</p><p>"No," Thalia cut in. "There's no need to apologise. You were right. I may have survived the journey here, but there is still more to prove. There is <em>always</em> more to prove. Besides, it would be nice being the hunter instead of the <em>hunted</em>."</p><p>Percy cocked his head her way and sent her a soft inquisitive smile, silently asking if she was okay. She nodded, hands fidgeting with her necklace, grasping for some sort of missing comfort. A comfort she was only now realizing she had felt when Percy had held her hand. How, for just a heartbeat, she had felt some sort of control over her emotions. Maybe there was still hope for her. Maybe, some day in the near future, she wouldn't be bursting with emotion at every turn. Draining herself to the brink was not the issue. It was the fact that she was a walking calamity. A danger to those around her.</p><p>"So…where are we heading?" Percy asked.</p><p>"To the Temple of Zeus, of course." Annabeth answered lazily, sliding of her seat. He raised an eyebrow. "Right, I see the confusion now. In Hemitheopolis our rooms are located within the temple of our godly parent. For example, my room's in the Temple of Athena, down towards the lagoon. Poseidon's temple is near enough. Chloe on the other hand, stays at the temple of Demeter, all the way back at the farmlands."</p><p>"I saw houses from the dining hall." Thalia commented, as they walked. They had been magnificent structures of stone and marble, sprouting from the earth in all shapes and sizes.</p><p>"Yes, there's that," said Annabeth, deep in thought. "Anyone's free to move into the housing district once of age."</p><p>"Of age?" Percy asked.</p><p>"Not as relevant as it once was when the city teemed with demigods," Annabeth started. "But still, a milestone we look forward to. Once we reach eighteen years of age, our mandatory training stops. We have the choice of what or who we want to become. Farmers, trainers, shopkeepers, architects…the list goes on and on."</p><p>Thalia noticed how her eyes lit up at the last option.</p><p>Percy chimed in, face dead serious. "What about fishermen?"</p><p>Annabeth gave him an empty look as his expression morphed into grin. Thalia shoved him playfully, finding herself shaking her head at his antics.</p><p>"You mentioned that it was not as relevant now," Thalia stirred the conversation back to its purpose.</p><p>"Most of us choose to continue training. The elder generation has been maintaining the city as well as it has ever been, so we, the young, choose to keep fighting and protecting the city for as long as we can. Of course, we do help out with anything when needed."</p><p>Percy and herself were silent for a time, mulling the possibilities and digesting the information of what would be their new home.</p><p>"I'm sorry to pry," Percy said, holding Annabeth's gaze. "But how do you know Maya?" Annabeth continued walking, ignoring his question. "I know there's history. I saw it in your eyes. Damian's and Chloe's too. Please…I wouldn't be here if it weren't for her. I just want to know what happened."</p><p>After a time, she turned back to them, unspoken sorrow written on her features. A heavy sigh, "Remember how I told you that Chloe and I travelled from Athens?" Thalia nodded. "Well, it wasn't all smooth sailing. We were attacked by a group of creatures…" her voice trailed off.</p><p>"It's okay," Percy said. "I'm sorry for trudging it up-".</p><p>"No," Annabeth waved him off. "Might as well get it over with now. At least, I'll be saving Damian and Chloe some pain." The tone that Annabeth had taken, scared Thalia. What sort of creatures had haunted them so; these people who according to Percy had charged fearlessly against the horde of hellhounds and demons.</p><p>"We were rescued by a group of Hemitheopolians. Among them was Damian and Thaddeus, and also a daughter of Hephaestus, Lily. The other…was Theron, Maya's son. He died protecting us." Annabeth finished with a deep breath.</p><p>The cycle of heroism. Proof of it, standing before her. Even more reason for Thalia to gain control of herself and go on this quest. To fulfill her role in what was to come. To complete the cycle that had started when Cyril had given his life for hers.</p><p>"We've arrived," Annabeth said. Thalia found herself once again standing in front of the pair of temples from earlier. "The temples of Zeus and Hera."</p><p>"They're <em>magnificent</em>," Percy marveled, as they stepped in.</p><p>"I know," Annabeth's eyes practically glowing as she beamed. "I've spent countless hours admiring the architecture of these temples. They are some of the largest temples ever built, at least in Hemitheopolis."</p><p>Thalia, though, was unimpressed out of sheer principle and disdain for her…</p><p>No. That word was reserved for Cyril. Even if she did care for <em>him,</em> the temple was cold and empty—unwelcoming in every sense of the word. It was not a place one would like to call home. And worst of all...his statue. The magnanimous king of the gods himself. It was smaller than the one out front. But in here, in this confined space, it seemed larger than life. All seeing and all consuming, suffocating her every breath. Annabeth knelt down in prayer and Percy followed suit. Thalia did no such thing.</p><p>Annabeth opened one eye and stared. "Thalia," she hissed. "Show some respect. You do not want to attract the ire of the gods. <em>Especially, </em>this one."</p><p>Thalia did not concede. Why should she pray to him? He had never cared for her and she for him. She felt no connection to him on any level.</p><p><em>Except the part where you summoned lightning from the sky</em>, a voice in her head argued. She ignored it. She owed him nothing. Nothing but her spite. She leaned against he nearest pillar, tapping her elbow impatiently until <em>finally,</em> they rose to their feet.</p><p>"My room?" Thalia asked innocently.</p><p>"This way," Annabeth brushed past her shoulder harder than necessary. Annabeth was clearly vexed by her insolence. She smiled a little at the thought, remembering that the first thing she had noted about the girl was that she was not someone to mess with.</p><hr/><p>Percy</p><p>"Forgive her," Percy said after Thalia had slammed her door shut. "She doesn't mean any ill will or disrespect."</p><p>"Doesn't mean any disrespect?" Annabeth narrowed her eyes.</p><p>"Not towards you anyway," he smiled nervously. "Give her time, she means well."</p><p>"Anger and rebellion will not get her anywhere," she sighed. "Not in Hemitheopolis. Here, we respect the gods. We are their servants, nothing more, nothing less. An extension, if you will, put onto this earth to protect it."</p><p>"Don't say that in front of her," Percy smiled again. "There is a large difference between showing respect and being a servant. She would <em>not</em> take lightly to that."</p><p>"You seem to know her well." They were walking now, out of the temple and towards the Library in the distance.</p><p>He didn't though—not really. He'd only known her for a few days now. But Annabeth's words rang true in a way. He knew some things with a surety that could only be born from what they had been through together. A precarious dance between life and death that they had only survived because of each other. He knew that she was braver than he could ever be and that she cared deeply for others.</p><p>"She's powerful," Annabeth held his gaze with a purpose. "More powerful than any demigod I have seen. She'll need support and that level head of yours."</p><p>"Oh, you are mistaken on that point," Percy ran his fingers through his hair. "I am <em>not </em>level-headed." Annabeth laughed at that.</p><p>They reached the library. A structure as magnificent as everything else in the city. A block of limestone carved with intricated designs that ran along it's perimeter. Ancient tales of heroism, according to Annabeth. Its crowning jewel, a statue of Athena, the goddess of victory, Nike in one hand and a spear in the other.</p><p>"A replica of the Athena Parthenos," Annabeth said. "Though much, much smaller."</p><p>"You've seen it?"</p><p>"You have no idea how many hours I used to spend staring at it," She smiled, a little flustered. "While most kids ran around the streets, I spent most of my time in the Acropolis breathing in the sights."</p><p>"That's cool,"</p><p>"Is it?"</p><p>"It is," Percy assured. "I only wish I were as knowledgeable as you"</p><p>"Are you always this flattering," she smiled again, eyes lighting up in amusement. There was something familiar about her eyes. But he couldn't tell what, only that they were beautiful.</p><p>"Always," Percy grinned. "What's with the snake lying by the shield at her side."</p><p>"That's King Erichthonius."</p><p>"Who?"</p><p>Annabeth rolled her eyes. "One of the first kings of Athens."</p><p>"Why is he a snake?" Percy shot her an absolutely dumbfounded look.</p><p>"You've never heard of the story?"</p><p>"Nope."</p><p>"He was a child of Athena raised in secret by the three princesses of Athens. He was given to them in a box."</p><p>"A <em>box," </em>Percy shook his head in disbelief. "Not a glowing endorsement of your mother, I have to admit."</p><p>"What part of secret did you not understand." She rolled her eyes again, annoyed at his jibe. "Anyways, Athena warned them to never look into the box, but then they did and what they found inside was a half-human, half-serpent that drove them to insanity."</p><p>"What is the moral of this story again…and how did a snake-human thingy rule Athens."</p><p>"You know what," Annabeth scratched at her chin. "You are absolutely right. That story never did make any sense to me. Just enjoy the statue, will you?"</p><p>"Will do."</p><p>"This library is the heart of Hemitheopolis." Annabeth continued spouting facts, just as she had done the entire walk. "It is the only thing that we can claim to have the biggest of in Greece. There is more knowledge stored here than anywhere else in the world. Not even Athens, Thebes and Megara combined have these many books. It's my favorite place in the world."</p><p>"Annabeth," Percy said softly. "Can I ask you a favor?"</p><p>"Fire away."</p><p>"Those demons that attacked us."</p><p>"The winged ones?"</p><p>"Yeah," Percy agreed. "Could you help me find out more about them?"</p><p>"Sure," Annabeth smiled, a question lingering on her lips. One he was glad she did not ask. "I had planned to anyway. I've never heard of or seen them before today and it has been eating away at my soul."</p><p>Percy needed to know if the sneaking suspicion that had been gnawing away at his heart was possible. But he was not yet ready to voice it out because, if he did, it would become too real. And hope—even the tiniest shred of it—would tear him apart. Yet here he was, asking for her help, because not knowing, did the same.</p><p>"Thank you…" Percy searched for the words that could convey his gratitude while also stressing the importance of the task. "It would mean the world to me."</p><hr/><p>Chloe</p><p>Chloe was just about to push open the door to the infirmary when Damian wrapped his arms around her and spun her into him. The look of longing and absolute adoration that he offered, was enough to make her mind melt.</p><p>"What are you doing?" She managed to say.</p><p>"I let you down here once before, but not today." he said, all serious. "A flower requires the sun to live, does it not?"</p><p>She raised an eyebrow. "Err…I suppose."</p><p>"What if I told you that the sun required the flower to live?" He broke into a smile.</p><p>"What?" she replied, baffled.</p><p>"What I'm trying to say…" he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "What I'm trying to say is that I can't live without you Chloe. Not now, not ever."</p><p>"Oh," Chloe stared back at him, drowning in emotions. "Nor I without you," She leaned into him, kissing him with all that she had, letting the warmth and comfort of him wrap her in a bubble. A bubble she never wanted to leave.</p><p>They pulled away, breathing ragged.</p><p>"Then let the gods be my witness," Damian tilted his head up to the statue of Apollo built atop the infirmary. "Will you, Chloe Vitalis, marry me?" He knelt and brought out a ring. Her heart stopped, only for a moment, then it resumed, beating faster than it had ever done.</p><p>"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she yelped, pulling him up into her arms and kissing him again. "Though…you really need to work on your poetry," she muttered through the kiss. "It made no sense whatsoever." He pulled away, just for a heartbeat, and smiled.</p><p>"Oof!" He put a hand dramatically to his chest. "I poured my entire heart into that line. Spent hours crafting it. I fear that you have broken my heart beyond repair."</p><p>"I know just the thing," a sly smile on her part. She kissed him again. "Has it been restored now?"</p><p>"Yes," he smiled through the kiss. "I think it actually may be."</p><hr/><p>Edited 2nd May 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Eyy…the long-awaited proposal has finally occurred. Hoped it was as adorable as I tried to make it be. Also, yay to the beginning of Percy and Annabeth's friendship. Like I said, I love Percabeth with all my heart, but I wanted to write something different. So, I made sure that they were still close friends who relied on each other.</strong>
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  <strong>Do leave a comment if you enjoyed the chapter</strong>
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  <strong>I'd really appreciate it</strong>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. A League of Our Own</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks for all the love on the past few chapters.</p><p>Just a little question for you guys, who's your favorite OC of mine?</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Annabeth</p><p>"Oh-my-god!" Annabeth lifted Chloe's nimble fingers into her palm. "It's beautiful."</p><p>"I know," Chloe's voice a near screech, her eyes glowing like the jewel that rested on her finger. The ring was quite a thing to behold. Annabeth could almost forgive Damian for all his idiocy. Almost.</p><p>It was a cylinder of interwoven vine and wood, twining around one another, imbued with both silver and gold. If it were not for the intricacy of it, the host of colors might have looked ridiculous. But it worked, blending perfectly with the emerald that burned at its core.</p><p>"Who knew Damian could be so romantic?" Annabeth asked.</p><p>Chloe cleared her throat, a blush blooming. Annabeth burst into laughter.</p><p>"What have you guys been up to? Was that night in the gardens not the first?" She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively.</p><p>"Stop it," Chloe whined. "He really is quite the romantic."</p><p>"You're hopeless," Annabeth said simply. "But I'm happy for you. If he ever hurts you-"</p><p>"I'll kill him myself," Chloe finished, with a playful quirk of the lips.</p><p>"Good."</p><p>"But he won't. You know that as well as I-"</p><p>"Ahh…I wouldn't be so confident." Annabeth cut in. "He can be quite an imbecile at times."</p><p>"Annabeth," Chloe shook her head.</p><p>"Chloe," Annabeth replied condescendingly.</p><p>"You're insufferable."</p><p>"And you're insufferably in love," Annabeth continued.</p><p>"I am, aren't I?" Chloe remarked, attention shifting to something over her shoulder. Annabeth did not need to follow her gaze to know what or who she was looking at, but she did anyway.</p><p>Damian was stood at the weapon racks, picking out weapons and testing their balance. Upon noticing Chloe's attention, he waved in recognition—a wide, dumb smile plastered across his face. A face of someone who was well and truly in love. And a glance at Chloe revealed the same, dumb grin.</p><p>Annabeth shook her head, "Insufferable," she muttered under her breath. Chloe slapped her on the shoulder lightly for it. Annabeth pulled at her hair idly as they waited, patience running low. "They're running late."</p><p>"Cut them some slack." Chloe nudged her by the shoulder. "They haven't even been here a day-"</p><p>"Speak of the devils…" Annabeth drawled. "And they shall arrive." She made it a point to scowl as they arrived. "You're <em>early</em>."</p><p>"Thank you," Percy shot her a lopsided grin. He looked to be in high spirits. Thalia on the other hand, did not.</p><p>"Well rested?" Chloe chimed in, always the one to worry for her patients.</p><p>"Very," Percy stretched his arms out lazily.</p><p>Thalia turned to him with narrowed eyes. "Well, that's just great, isn't it? I'm <em>glad</em> you enjoyed the peace and quiet of the ocean." Her tone, sharp as knives. "In case you were wondering, I slept well too—for a good five seconds, that is. It was wonderful, really. The sounds of an entire city. And don't let me start on the thundering footsteps that echoed through my room whenever someone decided to be oh so kind as to pray to the mighty Zeus."</p><p>Percy did not jump at the bait, his smile turning soft, worried even. Annabeth wished she were only half as patient as he. "We can find her a place to rest, can't we?" He turned to Chloe.</p><p>"It's fine," Thalia cut in, features softening in response to Percy's actions, the slight semblance of annoyance still lingering upon her expression. "Some sparring is exactly what I need."</p><p>"Percy," Annabeth said. "You're with Damian. And you're with me." she finished, turning to Thalia. "Chloe will take you guys after. She'll teach you how to control your powers."</p><p>They moved into position, Annabeth circling Thalia.</p><p>"An archer, I see. Show me what you got,"</p><p>"Give me a target," her eyes gleamed in challenge, "Any at all."</p><p>There she was. The real Thalia. The spartan warrior that was lurking behind all the sarcasm and defiance. Good, this was someone she could work with.</p><p>"That one," Annabeth pointed at the furthest target on the training field. It was a difficult shot to say the least. Not many archers in Hemitheopolis would dare attempt it. Thalia scoffed as audibly as possible.</p><p>"What?" Annabeth shot her a withering glare. "Not enough of a challenge for you?"</p><p>"Do your enemies usually stand around doing nothing?" Thalia drawled. She did have a point, Annabeth supposed. "That girl over there." She directed Annabeth's gaze to the young archer who was firing arrow after arrow into the straw dummy before her.</p><p>"What-"</p><p>"Just watch and learn."</p><p>Thalia drew her bow, taking a deep breath and nocking her arrow with immaculate precision and posture. There she stood in complete silence, waiting, and waiting. It was only when the other archer nocked an arrow of her own did Thalia react.</p><p><em>Surely not. No one was mad enough to try that</em>.</p><p>Thalia fired, her arrow whistling through the air at blistering pace, intercepting the young archer's arrow just as it was about to stick its landing, leaving her none the wiser, thinking that she had misfired.</p><p><em>Impossible.</em> To make that shot, Thalia would have had to known too many things. The speed of the archer's arrow, its trajectory, the angle she would fire it at. Unless…</p><p>Annabeth had noticed how her eyes had wondered when they spoke. Could she have really learnt that much about the archer in such a short time. Thalia was far more observant and intelligent then she let on. That, Annabeth was certain of.</p><p>"Impressed?" Thalia grinned, sketching a low bow.</p><p>"It seems," Annabeth nodded in approval, "that there will be no need for archery lessons. So, what is your preferred secondary weapon?"</p><p>Thalia, content that she had one-upped her, smiled genuinely. "The spear. But I was taught, rightfully so, that one did not carry both a bow and a spear. A spear was a melee weapon with range, and what good was that when one had mastered the bow."</p><p>"You are right, of course," Annabeth agreed. "Not to mention, the inconvenience of carrying a spear alongside one's bow and quiver."</p><p>"Trust me," she let out a small laugh. "That is no mere inconvenience, <em>that</em> is a tangled mess of limbs waiting to happen."</p><hr/><p>Damian</p><p>"The trident is like the spear, only more unwieldy," Damian explained as he adjusted Percy's stance. "Truth be told, it isn't the most practical of weapons. But in the right hands, any weapon can be devastating. It is the wielder, not the weapon that one must truly fear."</p><p>Percy, jaws set in concentration, nodded. He reminded Damian of Thaddeus. The way he carried himself, head hung low but a posture that seemed to suggest confidence. Respectful and sure of himself, yet entirely not. A sort of reserved I-have-to-be-better attitude. It was a delicate balance of humbleness that was rarely found, even in the greatest of heroes. The kid had potential, that was obvious enough, having survived what he had.</p><p>"The outer prongs of your trident are curved outwards," Damian said. "Why is that significant?"</p><p>Percy seemed to consider the matter, analyzing his weapon, taking a few measured jabs. "It can wound the enemy both in its initial thrust and when it is pulled back."</p><p>"Exactly!" Damian clapped him on the shoulder. "Which means no movement is wasted. This is important when wielding such a large weapon. Utility over speed, it's kinda my style." He gestured at his broad sword. "The reverse can also be observed. Just look at Annabeth and Thalia now."</p><p>Percy followed his pointed gaze and watched, mesmerized. "Such grace," Percy breathed, watching them whirl at each other furiously. Annabeth had both her hunting knives out while Thalia wielded a xiphos.</p><p>"Not quite the word I would use," Damian smiled. "But you're right. That is why, when fighting an opponent that relies on speed and agility, positioning is key. One wrong move and you'll be pinned. Don't hesitate to use the shaft as a weapon. Use it to swat away anything that gets too close or to parry an incoming attack. A well-placed blow is all it takes to disarm an enemy."</p><p>Percy's brow furrowed at the torrent of information.</p><p>"Don't worry," Damian assured him. "It is a lot to take in. But I wanted to equip you with as much knowledge as possible before we embark on our quest. A battle that is won here," Damian tapped a finger to the side of his head. "Is over before it has begun. So, let's spar and see what you've learnt."</p><p>Chloe who had been spectating from the side, beamed at them, thumbs up in support. With just a moment's notice, Damian slammed his sword down at Percy, who, with quick reflexes, side-stepped the blow. "Good!" Damian shouted. "Again," he said, swiping at Percy's midriff-</p><p>Percy flicked the shaft of his trident, parrying the blow. "Very good! Remember, <em>utility.</em>" He slashed at Percy's feet, not as fast as he could have-</p><p>Percy, with surprising agility, spun his trident into Damian's forearms, knocking the blade straight out of his hands. Chloe cheered for him, offering Damian an apologetic smile.</p><p>"Excellent," Damian took a step back to retrieve his blade. "Though I did mention utility over speed, faster is always better. Now, for real this time." Damian, leapt at Percy, striking again and again. Percy stumbled backwards, parrying the blows, one after the other. He was holding up surprisingly well—longer than most, in fact. But Damian could already feel Percy's arms weakening from every blow, his interceptions becoming less and less stable.</p><hr/><p>Percy</p><p>Percy was taken aback by Damian's sudden change of pace. Gods above he was strong—strong <em>and </em>fast. Percy was holding on…for now, but this was a battle of endurance that he would not win. Moving backwards under Damian's onslaught—a yell led Percy to glance at his side. Thalia had been thrown to the ground, Annabeth's knives at her throat. His heart skipped a beat-</p><p>The world spun along with his vision, as he landed painfully on his back. A flash of metal, and Percy found himself inches away from Damian's blade, the weapon buried in the earth. When he looked up, he was met with a primal fury.</p><p>"In battle, you must never hesitate!" Damian's face was barely recognizable. His eyes were of a much lighter shade than Thalia's, but now, in the moment, they didn't seem so. "It only leads to one thing!" his tone bitter. "Death!"</p><p>Chloe was there, wrapping her arms around Damian and pulling him into her.</p><p>"Damian," she pleaded. "You're safe. I'm here."</p><p>All Damian's anger and frustration seemed to disperse in an instant, as he went limp and leant into her embrace. He only spared Percy a tentative glance before looking away, clearly ashamed of his outburst.</p><p>Percy was about to tell him that it was alright—that no harm had been done. But he avoided all eye contact, stepping backwards wearily, as if he were afraid of himself. Chloe, hands on Damian's shoulder and stood on her tiptoes, whispered into his ear. He nodded with a grimace, and shuffled away, head held in his hands.</p><p>Damian was right. Percy had been foolish. Thalia had been in no danger; she and Annabeth had only been sparring. But what else was he supposed to do when fear snuck up on him like that. This fear that had always dwelled within him, but had now roared to life ever since…</p><p>He would not let someone he cared about get hurt ever again. And gods help him, Percy cared for Thalia deeply. From the way she laughed to the way she fought. And that was not where it ended; Maya and Chloe who had healed him; Annabeth and Damian who had rushed to his rescue. This entire city…His entire village. So many people to let down. So many to fear for.</p><hr/><p>Chloe</p><p>"Forgive him, will you?" Chloe offered Percy her hand and pulled him to his feet.</p><p>"There is nothing to forgive," he said coolly.</p><p>Percy was patient. Chloe liked that about him. It would be nice having a kindred spirit. Though she loved Damian and Annabeth with all her heart, patience was not a word that could be associated with them. She smiled at the thought, all the petty squabbles the two had found themselves in.</p><p>She gestured for him to follow. "We'll grab Thalia and start our first lesson."</p><p>As they approached, Thalia managed to spin Annabeth into a chokehold, her xiphos hovering across Annabeth's neck. Thalia released her grip with a grin, Annabeth looking none too pleased.</p><p>"Annabeth," Chloe called. "Can I have her now?</p><p>"Sure," Annabeth gave Thalia a nod that signaled a begrudging respect, before they shook hands with clasped forearms.</p><p>"You're a good teacher," Thalia said. "And a formidable warrior. It was an honor."</p><p>Chloe and Percy exchanged perplexed glances.</p><p>"They got along fast," Percy whispered. "I swear they were just at each other's throats."</p><p>"What are you whispering about now?" Thalia, who had walked over to them, glared.</p><p>"Nothing," Percy smiled goofily, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Nothing at all-"</p><p>The council bell rang, cutting Percy off.</p><p>"That can't be good," Chloe frowned. "Looks like class is cancelled. The briefing has been brought forward."</p><hr/><p>"I am no fool," Hector spoke, the council and quest members around him. "I know how quickly information travels in this city. Even those which are not supposed to leave this chamber." He looked pointedly at his Aeropagus. "You are all aware of the threat we face. There is an army of monsters gathering at our doorstep and we do not have the numbers to defeat them. I have sent word to the city-states of Greece. The time for conflict between us is over," Hector's voice firm, as if what he was to say next would invite challenge, and that he would be having none of it. "Let us forget the sins of the Delian and Peloponnesian leagues. It is time we form a new league, the Grecian League. One for the protection of the people of Greece, rather than their exploitation."</p><p>Chloe took a moment to digest what she had just heard. Forming a league, would mean revealing Hemitheopolis to the world. Of course, they would still be safe as long the barrier stood. But still, it would be the end to all the centuries of secrecy. It would no longer be only a handful of people who knew about their existence—no, this would put Hemitheopolis on the map and in the history books.</p><p>"I know what you all must be thinking," Hector continued, bracing his hands on the council table, a row of scrolls sat between his arms. "It is a dangerous play. But it is also the one we must make if we are to survive."</p><p>"Agreed," Damian scanned the room for objections. "We are all in this together. Though…I wouldn't be so certain that the other city-states would feel the same. There is a bloody history between them all. One that is not so easily forgotten and one that has tainted this country—tainted it with blood and betrayal for as long as anyone can remember."</p><p>"That is why we will be sending emissaries to the city-states within reach," Hector continued. "Lydia," he turned to the daughter of Hermes who had been hand-picked by Damian to fill his position as strategoi. It was because of her initiative that Percy and Thalia had been rescued in time. "You will sail to Corinth first, then ride to Argos and Nauplia. Take two others with you. Preferably those with the right temperament for diplomacy. Do everything within your power to get their councils to sign the treaty but <em>do not</em> make any enemies." He handed her three scrolls. "We are not asking anything of them now, only a promise to join arms when the time is nigh, so I expect minimal resistance. Report back as soon as possible."</p><p>Lydia was growing pale, hands shaking as she reached for the scrolls. It was a lot of responsibility for someone her age—but then again, Percy and Thalia were also being sent out. A reminder of what this life entailed.</p><p>"Now that that's out of the way," Hector readjusted himself in his seat. How long had he been sat here, preparing these scrolls, and changing the course of history with his decisions? "There will be some minor changes to your quest." His gaze directed to Damian</p><p>"How so?" Damian leaned closer.</p><p>"I have received word from Athens," Hector answered simply. "Let us first hear what they have to say. Then everything will be clear." He gestured to Damian, to read the last scroll. Even from here, Chloe could recognize the symbol of Athens emblazoned on the wax seal. An owl sitting atop an olive branch.</p><p>Damian unrolled the scroll and began to read it out aloud.</p><p>
  <em>Fellow Archon,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>As per your advice, we have evacuated our outlying villages and brought the people to safety within our walls. We had also dispatched our fleet to round up the villagers from the outlying islands located on the Aegean Sea. However, we had only gotten as far as the village of Koressia before we were forced to retreat. There were two reasons for this.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We were not trained to fight monsters, only men and therefore could not make it far.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The losses we sustained to our fleet were too great. We had to prioritize the safety of Athens.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We write back to you, seeking your help in this matter. Send out a force—a small one will do; the villagers on the remaining islands number no more than 200. Maybe then, you may attract less attention from the creatures of the dark. We are not abandoning our cause; our promise stands and so our gates will be wide open should you bring them back safely.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lysistratus</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Archon Proper</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Athens</em>
</p><p>"There's no mention of helping Sparta," Annabeth jumping in immediately after Damian was finished. Her eyes had gathered into a storm of betrayal. Thalia too perked her ears up at the mention of her home. Annabeth looked to Hector, a spark of faith still lingering, as if to ask him if there was something else. Another letter perhaps. Any sign that they had agreed to the earlier proposal. Hector shook his head.</p><p>"Cowards!" Annabeth spat. "The lot of them. A disgrace to this country. I pray Athena smites them for their insolence…and the sheer <em>nerve</em> to ask for our help after what they have done…" Annabeth's voice trailed off as she tried controlling her temper.</p><p>Chloe would not believe for one moment that her father would have stood for this. He must have been outnumbered by the council. At least, that was what she told herself now.</p><p>"We still have to help them," Chloe said, exchanging a sad glance with Annabeth. They both felt it. That dread of knowing that their home—at least what used to be—had condemned another to death. "The people on those islands had no part to play in this betrayal."</p><p>"We will," Hector insisted. "And that is why there are alterations to your quest. The five of you will travel to Megara as planned. You'll sail together with Lydia and her companions to Corinth and travel from there."</p><p><em>Thank the gods. </em>She would not allow Damian and Annabeth near the Terata forest ever again. It seemed Hector shared the same sentiment.</p><p>"But after that," Hector continued. "Three of you will divert to Athens while the other two will continue on to Thebes. Damian must be one of the two. As polemarch of Hemitheopolis, he will lead the combined armies of Megara and Thebes in the first coalition of the Grecian League and strike down the army of monsters." Hector was about to look to Annabeth, to ask her to join Damian, probably assuming that Chloe would want to visit her father. But Chloe caught his attention and pleaded silently.</p><p>Hector glanced down at her fingers, eyes widening. He returned the tiniest nod of understanding. A movement so subtle that no one else noticed. "Chloe will join you. You'll need her to patch you up," Hector joked, smiling warmly at his son. A pat on the back and a whisper was enough to bring Damian to a sheepish grin.</p><p>"The three of you," he looked one-by-one at Annabeth, Percy, and Thalia. "Your priority is saving those villagers. If it is possible, and I repeat, only if, get Athens to sign the treaty and send a portion of their fleet to Sparta. But <em>I </em>cannot stress this enough, <em>do not</em> burn the bridge between us. We cannot afford such a powerful enemy. Especially not at this time." Chloe knew what Hector meant. Athenians were a prideful people and did not take insults lightly. But Chloe could already see the glint in Annabeth's eyes. This would not end well. She was plotting something all right. Chloe would have to talk to her later.</p><p>"There are some final preparations to be made in light of these changes. The boat will leave sometime after noon tomorrow," Hector concluded. "I expect all of you to be there on time. The fate of Greece itself depends on this voyage. Lydia, gather your companions and report to me after dinner."</p><p>"Yessir!"</p><p>"Then, a gentle reminder for you all. Rest well and take care of each other. Council adjourned."</p><hr/><p>Edited 2nd May 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Yay, more interaction between my main characters and a little something to drive the plot forward. Again, hope the plot makes sense. And also, yes, more and more Perlia.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Do leave a comment if you enjoyed the chapter</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I'd really appreciate it</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Sacrifice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks again for all the love on the past few chapters.</p><p>Anyway, I know the last few chapters have not been the most action packed compared to the start of the fic but don't worry it'll pick up. The journey to Hemitheopolis was Act 1.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thalia</p><p>Thalia did not at all enjoy the fact that she once again found herself on a boat. Especially because the last time she had been on one, she had nearly killed Percy and burnt herself from within.</p><p>
  <em>Percy…</em>
</p><p>Thalia felt the familiar warmth that radiated from him in clear contrast with the cool sea breeze that swept against her face. They were leaning against the railings, longingly looking at the home they had found, only to lose. His presence…</p><p>A strange sort of comfort she had never known before. A solid foundation in the turbulent sea that was her life. He had saved her in more ways than one. From mortal danger as she had him. But it was those other acts of kindness, small or not, that stood out to her. Always there, hovering with that sincere gaze of his. Thalia shouldn't have been surprised, she supposed, not from what she knew of him. Yet surprise was exactly what filled her when he had lied to the Archon. A noble act for someone you cared was easy, after all, that's what heroes did, but an act that was not quite so…</p><p>Even now, she felt the weight of his gaze, as he casually drummed his fingers against the railings. She knew what he wanted for better or worse. To learn about her—about Cyril. To bring more comfort than he already did. She did not deserve it. Yet, she knew him of all people deserved to know. After all, he had shared his story with her. And hers was not so different. But to voice it…to live it once again…<em>that </em>scared her more than any demon could. The creeping desolation that came whenever her thoughts strayed that way…just reliving glimpses of that night during the council meeting had been hard enough-</p><p>Percy turned to her, his movements, distracting. He leaned lazily on his side, ducking his head in exaggerated motions to get her attention. Thalia hesitated.</p><p>
  <em>Was she ready to let someone else in?</em>
</p><p>What if that foundation that was now solid were to be eroded away? Isn't that what happened to anything that was caught in her sea?</p><p><em>Not Percy,</em> a hopeful part of her suggested. Not because he was the son of the sea god—no, it was that strength of his she hadn't quite yet placed. He would not abandon her.</p><p>And that was it. The truth. If she were to turn now and meet his gaze, it would all come spilling out, and it would be one of the hardest things she had ever done. Nervously adjusting the errand stands of her hair, she took a deep breath.</p><p>And just as Thalia was about to turn, Chloe called their names. She didn't know to thanks the gods or to curse them. She had been both terrified and mortified of sharing her vulnerabilities, of perhaps sacrificing a portion of her self-coveted independence. But on the other hand, it would have been nice—nice to finally share the weight that hung on her shoulders and clung to her heart.</p><hr/><p>Chloe</p><p>"Time for your first lesson," Chloe smiled. "We'll start with the basics. You've seen what over-using your powers can lead to." She spared them both a grim look. "Tell me, what did it feel like to use your powers?"</p><p>"It felt…felt like I was being drained from within," Percy gestured at his lower abdomen.</p><p>"And it felt like I was channeling my anger—releasing it even," Thalia added.</p><p>"Yes," Chloe nodded. "Very good. All demigods are born with primal energy, sometimes referred to as godly energy. It manifests in different ways for each one of us. For some, it allows us to manipulate the elements of our godly parent. This is almost always the case for children of the elder gods."</p><p>"What of those that can't?" Thalia chimed in.</p><p>"I know what you're thinking," Chloe said it frankly, "that they may be at a disadvantage. The thought has crossed everyone's minds at some point of time. But we have learnt, through time and experience that, that is not always the case. Primal energy manifests itself in other ways, seen and unseen. Heightened combat awareness and enhanced cognitive processing, for example." Chloe explained, flicking a glance at Damian and Annabeth who were sparring on the front deck.</p><p>"Those are what we classify as passive manifestations," Chloe continued. "Ones that are always active but never drain your reserves. In that way, they are never at risk of losing control and hurting others or themselves like we do. Think of them as traits passed down from your godly parent."</p><p>Thalia nodded in understanding. "So, in short, all demigods have a reserve of primal energy but only some are able to actively draw from it—to shape it into other forms of energy."</p><p>"Exactly," Chloe willed her bracelets to transform. "But by draining our reserves, we make ourselves weaker in other areas. Speed, reflexes, concentration."</p><p>"How…" Percy seemed to consider the matter. "How do we know the amount of energy we'll exert from a particular action? And how do we manage—or balance it?"</p><p>"In general," Chloe started. "The larger the mass manipulated or the further it is away, the more energy it consumes. However, in Thalia's case that doesn't seem to quite be right. But not to get too sidetracked, our focus today is control. Balancing and preserving our energy can only be learnt through experience, but control can be mastered with practice."</p><p>Chloe launched her chakrams forward and the weapons buried themselves in the floorboards, right between Percy's and Thalia's feet. "Now watch carefully," Chloe reached her senses out towards her weapons, the undying vines they were made of—courtesy of her mother. She focused on their connection, the invisible ropes that bound all living things together. And with a simple tug of those ropes, both her chakrams flew back into her waiting palms, without dealing her so much as a scratch. She shrunk her weapons back to bracelet form and opened her palms out to them. They met her gaze with awe, which was not at all what she expected. Not when they had displayed power far exceeding hers.</p><p>"How?" Thalia seemed stunned for words. A part of her was glad. Glad that these two powerful demigods seemed to value control over power.</p><p>"Practice and more practice, and then when finally, you think you are ready—practice again."</p><p>There was a certain gleam that flashed across their eyes as she said it. A fiery determination.</p><p>"Try to do something," Chloe instructed, moving aside. "Anything at all but start small."</p><p>Percy rolled back his shoulders and stared at the sea while Thalia splayed her arms, eyes closed. Nothing happened. Chloe waited…and waited.</p><p>"Spread out your senses," she suggested. "Feel the connection that exists between the blood that flows within your veins and the element you are manipulating. As their children, you would have inherited some sort of link to their domains."</p><p>Just as she finished her sentence, an orb of water rose from the gulf before sloshing around in wild circles. This was of course much to Thalia's annoyance. The girl was as competitive as Annabeth, perhaps more so. Chloe smiled at the thought. Thalia eyed Percy, brows knit in concentration-</p><p>A gust of wind slammed into the boat, causing them all to stumble and the orb of water to burst, dousing both Percy and Thalia. With a huff, she narrowed her eyes at him.</p><p>"What was that for?" Thalia's annoyance morphing into anger.</p><p>"What? You're the one who hit it with a blast of air." Percy had not backed down an inch. He was brave—a little too brave, perhaps.</p><p>"I did not!"</p><p>"Whatever you say," Percy shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry."</p><p>Thalia's anger turned to disbelief at his tone and then back to anger in a heartbeat.</p><p>"What did I say about constantly apologizing." she challenged, hair rising with the wind, sparks crackling at her fingertips.</p><p>"What do you want from me?" Percy sighed. "You accuse me and then when I apologise, you do so again." A wave grew behind him, pent up like his frustration.</p><p>Gods their bickering was endless.</p><p>"Guys!" they turned their glares on her. "Cut it out! Your gonna send us to the bottom of the sea." Chloe stepped in between them; voice laced with as much alarm as possible. Percy and Thalia took one sweeping glance of the area and noticed the chaos they had wrought, and with fear flaring in their eyes, their arms went limp. The wave came crashing down and the air seemed to calm.</p><p>"Thalia, I'm sorry," Percy turned to her again, this time the apology wholly genuine.</p><p>Thalia scrubbed at her face and nodded, "Me too."</p><p>"As you have both seen," Chloe tried not to be too harsh with her tone. "It is a dangerous thing, letting your emotions take control of your power. An in-built defense mechanism of sorts. Surely the two of you have noticed it before?"</p><p>"On one or two occasions, perhaps," Thalia mumbled. "I never understood it before, but I've fell from dangerous heights," Percy flinched at the thought. "And every time I thought I'd hurt myself; it would be like the air itself cushioned my fall."</p><p>"I suppose it has happened to me as well" Percy cut in. "I don't know how, but I managed to guide a raft all the way from Crete to Nauplia while barely conscious."</p><p>"Our primal energy lends itself to our primal needs," Chloe explained gesturing for them to sit with her. "When we truly need them, our powers will be there to save us. So, we have to hone them as much as possible, whenever possible, so that when the time comes, we have some semblance of control over it, to not harm others or ourselves in the process."</p><p>"But if not through emotion, how else do we control our power?" Thalia asked.</p><p>"I wish there was a clear answer," Chloe said. "But it always varies, whether by individual or scenario. Emotion is still a valid tool when used sparingly. Sometimes, intention is all there is to it. Sometimes, will or self-belief. Most of the time, sheer necessity. But the more you try the easier it gets and the less it drains you. So, try again, something less…volatile." she offered them a smile.</p><p>With furrowed brows and a determined expression, Percy pressed his palms to the floorboards. Slowly but surely, the water that was caught in his and Thalia's hair and clothes slithered out and off the edge of the boat.</p><p>"Thank you," Thalia said, adjusting her hair back into its braid. "Sorry."</p><p>Percy sent her an amused grin, ready to tease her for apologizing. Thalia raised her hand, "Don't. Just don't." Percy's grin did not fade. She poked him in the side, and he yelped.</p><p>"Ouch!"</p><p>"What?" Thalia raised her eyebrows innocently. "Chloe did say try anything."</p><p>Chloe and Thalia exchanged smirks.</p><p>"I'm pretty sure that shocking your friend was implied to be off limits." Percy shook his head in utter disbelief at the betrayal.</p><p>Chloe and Thalia burst into laughter, which Percy eventually joined in.</p><hr/><p>Damian</p><p>Damian lunged under the blow aimed at his head and rammed his shoulders into Annabeth. She crashed towards the floorboards, knives clattering against the wood. He loved sparring. It was the one thing that always cleared his mind and made him feel at peace. Sparring and Chloe—his wife. He could not restrain the wide grin that spread across his features at the thought.</p><p><em>His wife</em>.</p><p>He would never get tired of thinking it. <em>Never</em>.</p><p>There, standing before him, the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on. And she had been crazy enough to agree to spending the rest of her life with him all of people.</p><p>"What are you grinning about now?" Annabeth asked, pulling herself up with the hand he offered. But Damian ignored her, attention wholly occupied by the smile Chloe wore as she laughed with Percy and Thalia.</p><p>"Ah, I see…" Annabeth teased. "They were <em>supposed</em> to be training." The ensuing silence prompted him to flick his gaze to her. She met it, "Take care of each other. Please…I don't know what I would do without the two of you."</p><p>"We will," Damian assured her. "And don't worry. It will all be over soon. Once our enemies are defeated and their heads sent rolling, <em>then</em> our lives can go back to normal. As normal as it used to be, at least." Her all-to-familiar sly smile had formed throughout his declaration.</p><p>"And then first things first, the wedding." Damian shook his head, grinning at the thought. Annabeth retrieved her knives and returned into her fighting stance. "Again?"</p><p>"Not right now," he waved her off.</p><p>"I need to improve," Annabeth pouted. "I won't have you or Chloe having my back in this quest. For Percy and Thalia's sakes I will need to be at the top of my game."</p><p>"They aren't defenseless you know," Damian argued. "Thalia is an excellent warrior, probably as good as you are," Annabeth scowled at that. "All she needs is the right mentor to guide her and hone her abilities. And Percy has the right spirit for this life. I saw it in him from the start; the way he had thrown himself in between those demons and Thalia; the way he had sprinted past the gates with her in his arms despite his legs and lungs failing him. He has a fierce loyalty to those he cares for."</p><p>"I saw it too," Annabeth said, shifting her weight and leaning against the railings, letting the wind blow through her hair and cool the sweat off from her skin. "In that regard, he reminds me of Chloe."</p><p>"I was thinking…more like Thaddeus," Damian said joining her at the railings.</p><p>"He's in good company then,"</p><p>"Yes, he is," Damian agreed. "And I owe him an apology."</p><p>"For what?"</p><p>"I kind of went a <em>little</em> crazy on him earlier," He buried his face within his hands and sighed. "He hesitated when we were sparring…and it reminded me of…" his words failing him.</p><p>"Don't," Annabeth wrapped a hand around him and pulled him close. She leaned her head onto his shoulder and squeezed his arm. "I understand better than anyone, but please—don't do this to yourself. When I'm alone, I think to myself sometimes, <em>if only I had been more aware of my surroundings,</em> then I would not have gotten injured and none of it would have happened. And the thought keeps me awake at night Damian, and it hurts and hurts because it reminds me of Theron."</p><p><em>Oh gods,</em> Theron. Damian looked down at her, a tear sliding down his cheek.</p><p>"That was not your mistake Annabeth," Damian said. "It was mine. I should have—ow!" Annabeth squeezed harder, digging her nails into his skin.</p><p>"See what I mean? It is too easy to blame ourselves. But then I remember that Chloe wouldn't still be here if not for Theron. Think about how you wouldn't be here right now, on this boat, with your ring around her finger if not for Dorian." She looked at him earnestly. "Life has a funny way of tormenting us, doesn't it? But all we can do is pick up the fragments and piece them back together. If not for your own sake, do it for Dorian and Theron who sacrificed themselves for us and do it for Chloe. Leave the past in the past. Remember what Dorian told us—that he was proud of us."</p><p>He looked at her, speechless for a long moment. "I forget sometimes how wise you are for your age."</p><p>"I'm only a year younger than you, old man." She punched his shoulder playfully.</p><p>"I know," Damian said. "It's just that I have always viewed you as a little sister that needed protection and nurturing," Annabeth made a face at that. He ignored it. "Not the other way around. But lately, it always seems to be you who is there for me and I can't thank you enough for that."</p><p>"Sister in-law," She added matter-of-factly, a grin plastered on her face. Flustered, he grinned back. "Let's go and apologise then. Clear that self-loathing conscience of yours." She flicked him on the forehead and slipped swiftly past him before he could grab her and return the favor.</p><p>Moments later, they were all seated in a circle. Chloe on his left and Percy on his right. He shot Annabeth a glare for her efforts. She stuck out her tongue at him. Chloe, noticing their antics, shook her head.</p><p>"Percy," Damian began. "I'm sorry for earlier, for losing control."</p><p>Percy smiled. "Like I told Chloe earlier, there is nothing to forgive. It is after all your task to teach me how to defend myself. The advice was sound."</p><p>"I could have been nicer,"</p><p>"It is already forgotten," Percy insisted. "Not the lesson, I mean." A nervous trailing laugh on his part.</p><p>Damian found Annabeth's supportive smile, egging him on to share his feelings. Telling him that it would help. Oh, what the hell. He supposed, she was right. Percy and Thalia had the right to know now that they had been sent on this quest.</p><p>"Annabeth and I were on a quest with the previous polemarch. His name was Dorian, he was a great man and a great mentor. That's how we discovered the army of monsters, and that's why we are on this boat now."</p><p>I know this is not my place, but may I ask what happened?"</p><p>"Dorian died protecting me."</p><p>"My mother did the same." Percy added.</p><p>"I can't remember how she looked you know." Damian muttered. Percy gave him a confused sort of half-smile. "My mother, that is."</p><p>"Who was she?"</p><p>"Sophia." Damian choked on the word. It had been years since he spoke her name and doing so now made something within his chest unwind. "She was a daughter of Aphrodite. The only thing I remember of her is a faint image of her smile and that her eyes were exactly like mine. That's what my father told me, at least. I was only two when she died in the battle of Corinth." Damian stopped, knowing that another word would break him.</p><p>"She would be proud of you," Chloe said, entwining her fingers around his. Damian embraced the warmth that came with her touch. It had become like a drug to him—a warmth that not only radiated from her body but also her soul.</p><p>"Battle of Corinth?" Thalia asked. "Maya did mention that the full-strength of Hemitheopolis had only been seen once and in Corinth."</p><p>"It was a dark time for Hemitheopolis," Annabeth explained. "A battle against the most formidable monster we demigods have ever faced. The Aegean Drakon, named for the sea it terrorized. We won after a long and hard fight that lasted days."</p><p>"<em>Won</em> is a generous term," Damian said bitterly. "Most of Hemitheopolis perished during the battle. My father and Dorian were among the few who had survived, and we have been slowly rebuilding our strength and forces for over sixteen years."</p><p>"Sixteen," Percy mulled the information over. "Must have happened around the time I was born, maybe before."</p><p>"Hemitheopolis has never truly recovered," Chloe added. "And the fear of the Drakon returning has haunted the city since then."</p><p>"It wasn't killed," Percy said, alarmed.</p><p>"It just slithered away and vanished," Chloe said. "Probably from whence it came from."</p><p>"That's not entirely true," Annabeth interjected. "There were a handful of reported sightings of the Drakon after the battle. I read about it in the Hemitheopolis Chronicles."</p><p>"I've read them too," Damian chimed in. "Probably the ramblings of mad men. They claimed to have seen it in the Saronic Gulf, which would have been utterly impossible. Something <em>that </em>large would have never been able to move that fast or even cross the small channels that cut through the Isthmus of Poseidon."</p><p>Percy raised his brows at the mention of his father. "Isthmus of Poseidon?"</p><p>"A sacred piece of land that stretches between Corinth and Megara," Annabeth said. "It divides the Corinthian and Saronic Gulfs. The creature did appear out of nowhere when it attacked Corinth, so who's to say those reports were false." She looked pointedly at Damian.</p><p>"<em>Those </em>reports also claimed they saw Zeus himself descent from the heavens to smite the serpent." Damian replied with narrowed eyes.</p><p>"I have to agree with Damian then," Thalia scoffed. "Those reports were definitely delusions if the people who wrote them believed for even a second that Zeus cared about them." Damian did not know what to say to that. He had doubted the gods before—still did sometimes. But those doubts were always fleeting in their nature, nothing like the vindication he saw in Thalia's expression. It was then he noticed how Percy had instinctively moved closer to Thalia, his fingers tentatively reaching for hers.</p><p>"Whatever happened…happened for a reason," Damian said. "A wise friend once taught me not to dwell on the past and to look towards the future instead," A knowing smile crossed Annabeth's lips. "Let us make good on their sacrifices—for every single person that has given his or her life to make this world a better place." Damian took one sweeping glance at his companions and could see, clear as day, that what he had said rang true and close to their hearts.</p><p>They were all bonded in that way. Kindred spirits of sorts. Each and every one of them, only here because of someone else's sacrifice. All of them willing to make the same sacrifice should the need arise.</p><hr/><p>Edited 2nd May 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Yah this one is really exposition heavy. Do you guys think I balanced it well with humor and character moments?</strong>
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  <strong>Also yes demigod powers work a bit differently here. Hope I made things clear.</strong>
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  <strong>Do leave a comment if you enjoyed the chapter</strong>
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  <strong>I'd really appreciate it</strong>
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<a name="section0021"><h2>21. A Light in The Darkness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks for all the love on the past few chapters.</p><p>Shoutout to IRanOutOfIdeasForMyUsername and devourer_of_books for all the amazing comments. Seriously, I really appreciate it.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Damian</p><p>The ever-approaching silhouette of Corinth—a backdrop for his thoughts. Damian felt…lighter. Lighter than he had felt in a long time. He did not know why. Why this calm had settled over...no that wasn't the word...<em>within</em> him. Or rather, he did not know why it hadn't been there all along. His life, in most instances, could be described as a peaceful existence as far as demigod ones go.</p><p>There had been dark periods of course, that was inevitable. However, unlike most, he had always had those around him who lifted him up. Dorian…who had been there when his father shut himself off from the world. Those few years were some of the hardest. Not many families survived the battle of Corinth, leaving him as one of the only children in and around his age. The instant he had been old enough to lift a blade, Damian had buried himself into his training, having vowed to himself, though he barely understood the magnitude of the situation, to be strong so that whatever happened would never happen again.</p><p>So, it had been him and Dorian on that field, every day, from dawn to dusk, training and working till his limbs were dangling, prickling stumps. Then Thaddeus came along, a brother and a friend when he had none. Soon after, Lily and Theron. And just like that, it was like he had a family again—one that felt complete. But as time passed, he watched as Thaddeus and Lily grew apart from him, their love for each other stronger than anything he had ever known. A stupidly foolish part of him had been angry—or perhaps terrified that his new family was crumbling apart like the old one. It had been a foolish thought of a foolish young boy…but then Theron died, and the thought didn't feel so foolish, did it? And the world had never seemed darker.</p><p>But emerging from that darkness, a new light. One that till this day still scared him for how <em>alive</em> it made him feel. A light of green and gray that danced and glimmered with life. A light that took the form of two beautiful souls. A light that only too recently had speared through him to illuminate every spot of darkness that had crept back into his soul, and along with it the simple truth of life…</p><p>That it was worth living. No matter what bleakness the future might hold, this was the immutable truth.</p><p>And as if the world itself were taunting him, the sun began to set, letting darkness seep back into the horizon. It did not faze him—he was stronger now, stronger for all the people he had let into his heart. The familiar smell of roses filled his lungs as Chloe snaked her arms around him, pulling him into her warmth. He turned to allow for her to rest her head against his chest.</p><p>"What's on your mind?" she looked up at him.</p><p>"Nothing,"</p><p>"You're smiling,"</p><p>"I am?"</p><p>"Like an idiot,"</p><p>Damian pouted in return. "Just feeling grateful is all'</p><p>"Of?"</p><p>"My beautiful wife," he said as he tickled her waist.</p><p>She yelped and tried to jump away, but he held her close and kissed her hair. She was laughing into his chest. "Don't you dare," she warned. He didn't.</p><p>"Damian?" She asked softly as she pulled back a little and met his eyes.</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"Your turn!" She tickled him till he was bursting with laughter and falling to the floorboards, pulling her down with him. Her assault, endless. His breathing, ragged.</p><p>"St…stop…please,"</p><p>"Why should I?" she laughed, pausing for a moment.</p><p>"Because I love you."</p><p>She laughed again, eyes gleaming with amusement in the warm light of the setting sun. "I love you too." She declared, leaning into him for a kiss.</p><hr/><p>"Don't wait for us," said Damian. Lydia and her two companions, Elias and Adonis, twin sons of Ares, were astride their horses. "The moment you return, sail straight back to Hemitheopolis, new allies or not."</p><p>Damian noticed how Lydia seemed to fidget with her reigns, fingers trembling ever so slightly.</p><p>"Hey," he closed the distance between them, his voice a mere whisper. "I chose you for a reason—the ferocity you displayed when it was most needed. You'll be fine."</p><p>A deep breath then a smile, though the lingering doubt persisted in the slow curl of her lips. "I won't let you down, Polemarch."</p><p>Damian cringed internally at the formal greeting. He would never get used to that.</p><p>"I know you won't," this time, Lydia's smile reached her eyes, a certain surety growing within her.</p><p>"Safe travels," she bumped her fist to her chest, her companions echoing her sentiments.</p><p>"You too," He replied as the they turned and rode off into the night.</p><p>"Where are our horses?" Thalia asked.</p><p>"We don't have enough to spare, not for now at least," Damian pulled a pouch of gold from his satchel and tossed it to Thalia who caught it with a hunter's grace. "But this will rectify that."</p><p>"To the market it is." Percy said already marching to the docks with a spring in his step. Thalia frowned at the statement, a dark shadow flashing across her face. Damian had an inkling why. He remembered her story. Remembered what happened the last time she visited a marketplace.</p><p>"Not yet," Damian said. "We'll get our horses at Megara. The finest steeds in all the lands are bred there."</p><p>"I've read about them," Annabeth said. "They are said to be faster and stronger than most."</p><p>Of course, she had. Chloe pointed out the same, resulting in a glare from Annabeth.</p><hr/><p>Percy</p><p>They had been trudging along at a steady pace for hours when finally, Damian called for them to stop for the night in a clearing they had stumbled upon. Percy, though not one to complain, was glad for it. The torn muscle and sinew of his back had not yet healed completely, and he could feel them strain under the duress of constant travel.</p><p>The journey so far had been insightful, to say the least. Percy had hoped to have some time alone with Thalia. To finally breakthrough that invisible barrier between them. So long as it stood, he would never be able to be there for her like she had been for him. Just a glimpse of her past—her trauma. That was all he needed. That was all she needed…</p><p>Unfortunately, Annabeth, not wanting to disturb the newly-wed couple's alone time, had decided that it was in her best interest to fall into step with Percy and Thalia and narrate to them the entire history of Megara. From how they become a prosperous city-state due to their preferable geographical location that made them the only city with trading ports on both the Corinthian and Saronic Gulf, to how they had played a part in the Peloponnesian Wars.</p><p>Yes, a mouthful, he knew. He had learned a lot. And he adored her for it. He had never been one to balk at knowledge. He only wished she had found a more opportune time to endow them with it.</p><p>But now that they were stopping for rest, there would surely be an opportunity to catch Thalia alone for at least a moment. Then again, a moment could never be enough for what he wanted from her…</p><p>The first thing Damian did was gather them in a circle for a quick brief. They were to each take turns keeping watch for an hour while the others slept and once the cycle was over, they would continue to Megara. Time was of the essence he had said. So, it was decided that Chloe would take first watch, followed by Damian then Annabeth. Percy would take the final watch, just after Thalia.</p><p>Before Percy had even gathered the courage or senses, Thalia had found a particularly comfortable corner to sleep in, her head resting on her satchel which she had placed on a raised patch of dirt. He approached her, calling her name softly.</p><p>No reply. She really was exhausted, huh?</p><p>Finding a spot that was close but not too close, Percy laid himself down on the soft loam, only to then have to quickly turn to his side due to soreness of his back. Moments later, he passed into Morpheus's realm.</p><hr/><p>There he was again—looking through that damned window. Helpless as he watched his mother get slaughtered by those wretched things. Again, and again, throughout the night, throughout every night. There were days when it was better, if only slightly. Where he managed to tear his face away from the window and look down at the children he had saved. At those bright, wide eyes so full of life and hope for the future—Emily in particular. On those days, he would sometimes hear Thalia's voice like a faded echo, repeating the same words over and over again. <em>The cycle of heroism.</em></p><p>There was something odd about today's dream though…muddled would be the best word—detached, perhaps. As if that endless magnetic pull of agony did not hold full sway over him. So much so that he started hearing the soft tinkle of Thalia's voice even before having ripped himself from the nightmare. The window faded like a gust of wind, leaving an abyss. And when Percy turned, body shuddering from the effort, ready to meet those glowing green eyes he had become so accustomed to—that had become a symbol of his failure…he found another…eyes he had also become accustomed to, not in this realm but the one above.</p><p>"Thalia," He breathed.</p><p>She did not react, face frozen in concern. Then a simple reach and shake of his arm. "Wake up," her voice soft.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>Wake up</em>
</p><p>Percy stirred back to consciousness and found Thalia kneeling next to him, shaking his arm just like she had in his dream.</p><p>"You were gasping for air—shaking and mumbling," she swallowed, dropping his hand, and falling backwards so that she was sat next to him.</p><p>"You were there," Percy said, still in a daze, propping himself up next to her.</p><p>"Where?"</p><p>"In my dream,"</p><p>Thalia smiled nervously before turning away. Percy, flustered, stumbled over his words to clarify what he meant, "I mean…it was a nightmare-" Thalia whipped her head back towards him, glowering ferociously, "-I mean—what I'm trying to say is that I've been having nightmares of the day I lost my mother."</p><p>Almost instantly, Thalia's glare crumbled into a sad smile. Percy wondered if he'd ever get used to the volatility of her emotions. They sat in silence for a time—for a long time, both buried in their own thoughts, Thalia fidgeting with her necklace, Percy absent-mindedly picking at the strands of grass between them.</p><p>"You should rest," Percy said trying to break the air of silence. "It's my turn to keep watch, isn't it?"</p><p>"It is," Thalia said. "But I don't think I can go back to sleep now. Besides, one hour of rest is not gonna do me much good."</p><p>"Are you sure?" Percy teased. "You crashed hard."</p><p>She shoved him playfully with her shoulder, and the act made Percy unusually aware of how close she was sitting to him. A part of him wanted to move closer. They had been closer before. In the cave and in the old sailboat. But that had been a matter of survival, he told himself. It was a lie though. He knew that. At least for him, her presence was of safety and comfort. A light in the darkness that had become his life. Like how she had showed up in the abyss of his nightmares, how her words had fed him strength.</p><p>Feeling overwhelmed, Percy rose to his I feet. "I need a stretch. Don't want to nod off on my watch or anything,"</p><p>Thalia nodded and made to stand. He was about to object, to come up with some reason to convince her to rest instead, so that he'd have some time to sort the flurry of emotions within him…but the look in her eyes.</p><p>It was time. She was ready to fall, to be caught.</p><p>"Can we talk?" she asked through lowered lashes. He nodded and offered her his hand.</p><p>And so, they walked through the moonlit forest and Thalia spilled her truths and her fears. How she had been raised by a kind and brave man named Cyril. How fierce his training had been—how his love was even more so. How Cyril was her family…her father when she had none. And Percy understood then, why she resented Zeus. Why the thought of Zeus trying to claim that position made her blood boil.</p><p>Thalia's trembling fingers a reminder that he had not let go of them since the clearing. He squeezed them gently. She squeezed back, the tremors fading, if only a little. He hated the fact that he had not been there for her for all this time. He hated himself. All the suffering he could have stopped if only he were better.</p><p>But Thalia didn't let go as she continued talking, as she offered him that soft resplendent smile of hers that she rarely showed others. And he was truly grateful to all the gods that he could bring her some comfort, even the slightest.</p><p>Percy laughed at a particularly entertaining story of how Thalia had been gifted her cloak. "Aww…you were so cute."</p><p>"I was not," once again a glare, but once again one that faded. "I was a spoiled brat and Cyril deserved better." And spilling out with those words were tears. Heavy, painful sobs that wracked through her.</p><p>"You're wrong," Percy insisted. "You're wrong and I can bet you that Cyril would say the same if he was here."</p><p>Percy tried to get closer, but she shoved him in the chest, avoiding eye-contact. "You never knew him so don't speak for him."</p><p>"I'm sorry. But-"</p><p>"There's nothing else to say. He died for me Percy!" her eyes bloodshot, cheeks damp with tears.</p><p>"I know Thalia…I know." Percy inched forward, trying to close the distance she had put between them. His voice and words as gentle as they had ever been, "But that proves it doesn't it, that he was willing to give up everything for you, even his life. You can't blame yourself. You're the one who taught me about the cycle of heroism—"</p><p>Thalia, shoving him again, spat out, "That was just some silly thing I came up with to make you feel better."</p><p>The words were like shards stabbed into his ribs, leaving behind a dull ache from all her shoving, but deep down he knew she was speaking from a place of pain and hurt. "You're lying, I know you believe in the cycle."</p><p>"You told me your mother died because you had to save a group of children. How noble." The sarcasm in her tone shoving those shards deeper—closer to his heart. "You know why Cyril died? It was because this stupid girl standing before you thought that all she ever wanted was a night to be free, a night away from him. Guess I got what I wished for, huh?" The pain in her voice, the bitterness, how broken and small she looked and sounded—it was too much for Percy to take.</p><p>"Stop," he whispered.</p><hr/><p>Thalia</p><p>"Stop!" Percy repeated with an intensity that was unlike him. He closed the distance between them in one bound. Too quick for Thalia to shove him again even if she had wanted to.</p><p>"He made his choice Thalia," said Percy, holding her gaze with this newly discovered intensity of his. Splattered across it, the usual concern and sincerity. "I don't care if I did not know him," his voice a low growl. "I know you. And anybody in their right mind would have-"</p><p>"That doesn't change the fact that he deserved better," she cut in, slamming his chest with her fists.</p><p>Ignoring her attempts at pushing him away through her poisoned words and violent tendencies, Percy brushed his thumbs across her cheeks, sliding away her tears.</p><p>"Maybe it doesn't to you, maybe he did deserve better. But that's not for you to decide. It was his choice to raise you, his choice to love you and his choice to sacrifice himself. And to him, that would have meant that you were enough—you <em>are </em>enough."</p><p>Thalia did not know if it was the way he had said it or his words or the fact that they had come from him but something within her broken heart shattered. She threw herself into him, wrapping her arms around his back and letting the tears stream down her face.</p><p>"It hurts, Percy. More than any wound I have suffered. Every breath I take hurts and just when I think the pain has left me—like the despair has lifted, that maybe I could feel joy again, undeserved as it is, the guilt creeps back up and clings to my lungs."</p><p>Percy rubbed soothing circles on her back. "I know, Thalia. I know…"</p><p>The way his voice broke pulled Thalia out of her grief for a heartbeat. He had suffered as she had. What kind of selfless monster was she to make it all about her? Her thoughts were then splintered by what stood before her. Again—the vision of her from that night, dripping in saliva and blood.</p><p>
  <em>There is no one to absolve you.</em>
</p><p>Thalia squeezed, burying her face against Percy's shoulder. Percy flinched and turned his head as much as he could.</p><p>"Thalia?"</p><p>"It's nothing," she said quickly.</p><p>"Did you get to say goodbye?" Percy whispered. His tone betraying his own pain. He hadn't.</p><p>She pulled away ever so slightly, immediately bringing her gaze straight to his to avoid the ghost of her past. Eyes locked, she nodded.</p><p>"What did he say to you?"</p><p>The words were forever ingrained in her mind and so she repeated them.</p><p>
  <em>The day you arrived, was the happiest of my life. You were like a daughter to me. You were so much more. You filled a hole in my heart.</em>
</p><p>"There," Percy said with a conviction that reached his eyes. "You have your answer. You say he deserved better but to him…to him you were everything—the missing piece to his heart."</p><p>Percy's words found their mark. And it was only then she realised the shattering she had earlier felt was not that of her heart but rather the barrier she had placed upon it. The hollow shell she had let herself turn into with every abhorrent self-deprecating thought of hers. And it was only with the shattering of this barrier did Cyril's words sink into her heart. Those words that she had heard a million times over but had not dared accept. Just like that, the weight on her heart lifted, not completely, but enough so that breathing seemed…easy. Thalia lifted her head and found the image of herself smiling.</p><p><em>Ha! Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps there is someone stupid enough to absolve you.</em> It laughed as it faded with the wind.</p><p>Thalia pulled Percy in again and buried herself in his warmth. He flinched.</p><p>"Thalia?"</p><p>"Hmm,"</p><p>"Could you loosen your grip," he said flustered. "My back's still a bit sore."</p><p>"Oh," she released him and stepped away, flustered as well. "I'm sorry."</p><p>Thalia knew from the glint in his eyes that he was on the verge of teasing her for apologizing but then he whipped his head to the side. "Thalia, do you feel that?</p><p>"What?" she asked, knowing what he meant the moment the words left her lips. The ground was shaking and so were the trees.</p><p>"Something is coming towards us—something big." Percy said.</p><p>And so, they ran as fast as their tired legs could carry them, heading straight back to the clearing. The earth shattering tremors not at all aiding their cause, stumbling, and bumbling to their destination. But whenever one lost their footing the other was there to steady them.</p><p>The loud booming footsteps that reverberated through the forest was peppered with the groaning of snapping wood. That would mean the creatures they were about to face were larger than the tress that surrounded them.</p><p>"We have to wake the others and put as much distance between us and those creatures as possible." She shouted over the howling wind at Percy, who nodded in agreement.</p><p>Moments later, they arrived at the campsite, screaming at the top of their lungs.</p><p>"What's happening?" Damian asked jumping straight into battle stance.</p><p>"Something large is heading our way," Percy said. "We have to go <em>now</em>."</p><p>Annabeth and Chloe were now awake too, slowly coming to grips with the situation. "It has to be giants," Annabeth said. "Or maybe Cyclopes."</p><p>Thalia did not want to know which was worse.</p><p>"Which would be worse?" Percy asked. Damn him.</p><p>"Depends, do you fear the stronger enemy or the smarter?" Percy gulped at Annabeth's question.</p><p>"We don't have time for this," Damian ordered. "We have to prepare for a fight."</p><p>"No," Thalia insisted. "We should run."</p><p>"I would love to do that too," Damian said. "But if they continue along this path, they'll be bound to come across a village or the main roads, which would put innocents at danger."</p><p>Thalia had not considered the fact, secretly wishing she had not heard it too. Because it would now be too difficult to turn away, wouldn't it?</p><p>Annabeth came up with the plan and Damian the instructions. Chloe, Annabeth, and he were to be positioned in an arrowhead formation in the clearing while Percy and Thalia were to be stationed off to the side, hidden by tree cover.</p><p><em>Stationed,</em> Thalia scoffed at the use of the word. <em>Sidelined</em>, was more like it. She did not complain, not when the plan protected Percy. And if everything were to go according to it, Damian would draw the creature's attention while Annabeth and Chloe flanked it; their focus to tire the creature and to draw blood whenever possible. Thalia on the other hand was to fire arrows into its rear while its attention was otherwise occupied. Percy was only to move in if one of the three fell…</p><p>Everything did not go according to plan. Not one but three creatures emerged from the horizon. They resembled humans in that they had two legs, arms, and a head. But everything else about them…deformed—a towering monstrosity of flesh.</p><p>"Laistrygonians!" Annabeth shouted.</p><p>"Change of plans!" Damian instructed. "Annabeth and Chloe, take the one on the left. Thalia and Percy, the one on the right. The center one is all mine." All five demigods charged forward.</p><p>"They are not the brightest of creatures and they are as slow as <em>Aergia* </em>herself," Annabeth grinned as she ducked under a giant's swipe. "Get in close and stay in their blind spots. They won't know what hit em."</p><p>Thalia only wished she had known that earlier having fired an arrow straight into the eye of the giant she and Percy were tasked to defeat. In retaliation, the creature ripped an oak tree—roots and all—and with a groan, swung it into her. The trunk caught her in the side and sent her flying straight into another tree with a painful crack.</p><p>"Thalia!" Percy screamed as her vision blurred. Damian, was holding his own, ducking and weaving and slicing into his giant, while Chloe was taunting the other giant with the supreme agility that came with her lithe frame as Annabeth climbed up the creature. Percy, the damned fool, had been doing alright but was already racing towards her now, his back to the giant.</p><p>She watched it happen in slow-motion—watched as the giant brought the tree down for another swing and her heart nearly stopped as she screamed a warning at Percy. He dropped to a skidding slide just in time as the trunk passed not even an inch above him. He jumped to his feet and using his momentum, launched his trident straight into the giant's knee. A bellow of rage then the resounding thud of the creature dropping its weapon.</p><p>It bent over clumsily and ripped Percy's trident from its flesh, bringing it up to its one remaining hideous eye. The giant squinted—actually squinted as if it were inspecting the weapon that had dared hurt it-</p><p>Percy screamed. Not in pain but a sort of release…</p><p>The trident floated up from the giant's grip and hovered there for a moment before shooting straight into its eye. The giant, now blinded, trident still in its eye, stumbled towards Percy, swinging wildly in unadulterated rage, threatening to crush him. The fear of it was enough to jolt Thalia back to her senses. She reached inward, towards that well of power she had nearly drained that night-</p><p><em>You are enough</em>, Percy's voice echoing in her mind.</p><p>Perhaps she was. Perhaps she wasn't. That didn't matter. What mattered was her promise. She would not watch him die. Clinging on to that thought, she lifted a finger—</p><p>White-hot fire coursed through her veins. From her heart to her arm then her fingertips. The moment it left her skin, it exploded forward, arcing through the air as if it were death incarnate, striking Percy's trident. The creature convulsed as all trace of life left its body. It fell forward, collapsing with a resounding thud—its contorted face a hair's breadth from hers.</p><p><em>No.</em> What had she done? She had crushed him, hadn't she? She screamed his name over and over, twisting her neck to look for him. Annabeth was stood above a dead giant, her knives buried into the back of its skull. Damian was finishing of a crawling giant whose tendons had been severed.</p><p>Black spots started to fill her already blurry vision, but then she felt a jolt to her arm as someone pulled her to her feet. She raised her head and there he was, unharmed, smiling. And gods help her she felt like smiling too. She was about to ask him if he was okay, but he seemed to read her thoughts, "I'm okay, how about you?"</p><p>"Nothing permanent, give me some time with Chloe and I'll be right as rain," she leaned against him as he helped her walk over to the others.</p><p>Damian surveyed them with a keen eye and seemed satisfied enough at the outcome of the battle. "You guys did well—all of you. We move to Megara now; we can't afford any more delays."</p><hr/><p>Edited 3rd May 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Whooo that was a very Perlia centric chapter. Hope you all loved it.</strong>
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  <strong>*Aergia: Personification of sloth</strong>
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<a name="section0022"><h2>22. The Path to Redemption</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks for all the love on the past few chapters. And a warm welcome to all my new readers.</p><p>If anyone is wondering this story is set somewhere around 360BC. I try to be as historically accurate as possible, but I am no expert and tend to divulge for creative reasons. In this reality, after the Corinthian war, the Thebes-Spartan war never occurs.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe</p><p>The journey to Megara was a treacherous one. The Isthmus of Poseidon, not for the faint of heart, its terrain a series of steep, barren hills painted with thick underbrush and that was not accounting for its infamous weather. Torrent after torrent, storm after storm. Over the years, a path had been paved to ease the journey for travelers and merchants alike. But they had agreed collectively to avoid the paths, lest they come upon the vicious bandits that roam it. Of course, bandits posed no real threat to five demigods, but it was not in their code to harm mortals, even those who deserved it—their fates were left to the gods to decide. It was a sick and twisted thing, to prey on the weak, and it lit an inner fire in Chloe that did not sit well in her stomach.</p><p>But for as long as the path had existed, so had the bandits. Many believed the storms were sent by the lord of the sea himself—a punishment to the heathens who dared sin on his sacred land, who dared taint it with their vile actions. That inner fire that Chloe fought so hard to smother roared again, <em>good riddance</em>.</p><p>They had stopped only once when crossing the Isthmus, to offer prayers at the Temple of Poseidon that stood at its summit. As Chloe looked down along the cliffside, at the sheets of rain that slammed into it and the waves that crashed along the shore, she was glad that Percy was with them. Her sentiments justified only moments later. When the storms raged above, and it seemed like the world was about to end and there was nothing to do but cling on to Damian and pray that they weren't flung from the mountainside, the skies cleared above them. As if Lord Poseidon had sensed the presence of his blood.</p><p>The rest of the trek went smoothly, and Chloe was more than pleased to see that Thalia was already feeling better from her treatment. There had been a large bruise across her spine from being slammed into a tree with the full force of a ten-ton giant. She was back to her usual self, grumbling under her breath at Percy for not allowing her to carry her own satchel. Percy did not succumb to Thalia's surprisingly varied arsenal of glares that were shot at him in retaliation to his every grin. He mouthed something about it being his turn and karma, which only resulted in more glares. Chloe found herself smiling at their antics. They clearly cared deeply for each other, but it seemed to her, at least, that they enjoyed irritating each other more so than anything.</p><p>As they crested the final hill and looked down at the valley below, it was hard not to be drawn into the past. Chloe's father had often brought her and Annabeth here when on business. Chloe had loved everything about it. From the fields of flowers that surrounded every inch of the walls to the various temples that had been dedicated to her mother.</p><p>Megara—the city of Demeter. It had been built and named in her honour by their first king Kar, descendent of Inachos, the first king of Argos, said to be the mortal son of the Titans Oceanus and Tethys. But long gone were the age of kings; the age where only those blessed by the gods themselves ruled, and Greek prospered for it. An age that ended in horror as the line of kings grew further and further from the gods, from those who gave them their power—forsaking their holy mandate. And as they poisoned their thrones and their bloodlines, the age of men rose—democracy in the image of Athens. A beautiful thing it should have been, one that should have ushered in a golden age of Greece. And for a time, it did, but like all men, those tasked with the power of the people became corrupt and so ensued the dark age of Greece. An age of death, of endless war. A stain on the history of this once great nation. But there was yet hope for Greece—a path to redemption that had started with the end of the last war, one that would hopefully progress with the roll of parchment Chloe now carried with her.</p><p>The hope that seemed to bloom in her chest waned as she approached the city. Pagae and Nisaea were lifeless. The two ports were never so. They were the center of trade of all Greece. It seemed to be that a second dark age was upon this nation, one that was not the fault of man but that of the gathering forces of evil that seemed to hover ominously above them all. They were upon the gates now, the sentries looking not too happy to let five heavily armed persons into their city. But all Damian had to do was lift the seal of Hemitheopolis and they succumbed. The guards must have been informed of their arrival.</p><p>"This way," one guard gestured with a lazy flick of his wrist, already having turned on his heels. "I have direct orders from the Archon. You will not speak unless spoken to. You will not interact with anyone or anything. We will not have your…<em>lot</em> conspiring within these walls." Chloe did not appreciate the guard's tone. Annabeth more so, already ready to pounce. Damian held her back with a knowing look. They followed the guard through the gates-</p><p><em>Hell.</em> This was hell. Everywhere she turned, people scattered on the streets, faces gaunt and hollow, dressed in filthy and torn rags, the majority barely moving. She would have thought them dead if not for the occasional cough or painful wheeze. For a just a moment Chloe could have sworn she'd seen a flicker of hope in those lifeless eyes, but it fizzled the moment the people noticed the guard guiding them.</p><p>That was when Chloe saw it. Among all the pain and suffering. Among the famine and malnourishment. <em>Scars</em>. Scars on skin far too pale, on skin that hung too loosely from the bones.</p><p>The people were being mistreated by the guards. That inner rage of hers spluttered to life. Was that why they had been ordered not to interfere? Were these orders really from the Archon or was this just a ploy by the guards to protect their sins?</p><p>Her thoughts shattered by an infant's choked cry. Chloe spotted the source. A mother sat against a wooden beam, her child in her arms. Chloe rushed to them and slid to her knees.</p><p>"She's dying!" the mother wailed. "Oh gods…my child" she continued sobbing, "My baby is dying—"</p><p>One look and a gentle palm to the forehead was enough for Chloe to diagnose the child's condition. Same as everyone else around her. But the fever was the immediate concern. Chloe threw open her satchel and pulled out her supplies.</p><p>"Your child will be alright," Chloe handed the mother all the food she had. "I promise." The mother's eyes widened in gratitude and her lips moved, but no sound was produced. It would be enough, barely, for the child and mother alike to survive, but even then, from the corner of her eyes, Chloe could see the masses who also required food and medical supplies. She blinked away the tears that came.</p><p>Crouched beside her, Damian brushed aside a tear. "We can't help everyone."</p><p>Without looking his way, she replied, voice cracking, "We can try."</p><p>"That's not what I meant," he said exasperatedly, taking a deep breath before whispering wearily, "We'll bring this up to the council. No one but them can help."</p><p>Reluctantly, Chloe pulled her gaze from the child. The uncertainty in Damian's eyes was enough to confirm her suspicions. He, like her, knew that this problem ran deep. No group of guards alone could have put the city in such a state. This had to be the council's doing. And that meant whatever they tried now would not work. Not unless they could somehow convince the council—swing the vote perhaps. But still the labored breathing and cries were all she heard. All she seemed to ever hear these days. And surely every single life she saved or at the very least prolonged had to be worth something. Damian, reading her expression, nodded in understanding. Her heart swelled with pride as she saw her companions share her sentiments, all of them handing out their food and supplies.</p><p>Chloe returned to her task, crushing basil and garlic with some berries to mask the taste of the concoction, and mixing it into a vial of water.</p><p>"For the fever," she said, holding it out to the mother whose eyes widened in fear this time, not gratitude. The butt of a spear came swinging into her arm, sending the vial slipping out of her hands and shattering on the road.</p><p>"Enough helping the rabble," the guard that had been their guide sniveled. "My orders are clear. My instructions explicit."</p><p>That inner fire of hers blazed alive, so much so that it threatened to consume her. All rational thought left her mind as she spun, drop-kicking the soldier, her chakram at his neck within a heartbeat. The guard screamed for help, and within moments, she was surrounded by armed guards, spears pointed at her. But between her and those guards stood her companions, equally ready for battle.</p><p>"What kind of monster are you?" She asked, scarily calm. "These people need help. Food and medicine. This is not how you treat your people."</p><p>"Foolish girl," the guard sneered. "This is how things have always been in Megara."</p><p>"That doesn't make it right," she pushed her chakram closer, nicking his skin and drawing blood. She blinked twice and pulled herself back from the abyss. This was not who she was. And he had point. She had been foolish, hadn't she? All those years of believing this to be a beautiful, prosperous city—an illusion. No wonder her father had insisted on riding in a closed carriage till they reached the inner rings of the city. He had been protecting her from the truth. What had the world come to? What had Greece come to?</p><p><em>The path to redemption,</em> she scoffed. It seemed her hope in a better world had been foolish too. First Athens, now Megara. Chloe pulled back her Chakram, just a little, and spoke, "You will let me give that child his medicine…then I will follow you. If you make one move against me—" she pressed her chakram closer once again, and his eyes widened in fear as he nodded his understanding as carefully as possible. And when she looked up, she saw Damian drinking her in, eyes dancing with pride.</p><hr/><p>Annabeth</p><p>"Making enemies," the man sat at the center of the long table drawled, wagging his finger. On either side of him, the rest of his council. The council chamber was not too different to that of Hemitheopolis's. It was larger perhaps, but more hollow since the only thing within it was the table. "Not the smartest way to start you reign as Polemarch." He had to be Cadmus, Archon Proper of Megara. "I hadn't realised the <em>great Hemitheopolis</em> has stooped so low as to fall prey to nepotism. Hah! Could you imagine? The Polemarch…son of the Archon. Tsk, tsk, tsk."</p><p>Annabeth had the sudden urge to launch her knife and sever one of his fingers. Every one of them adorned with rings that looked too expensive to even be conceived. She felt a low growl rising in her throat. His people were in poverty, starving and dying and there he sat, their leader, thriving on their suffering. It made her sick.</p><p>She stole a glance at her companions; Percy and Thalia stood behind them, fingers nervously itching towards their weapons, concealed or not; Damian, so calm…so composed it scared her; Chloe trembling with a fury that was barely contained, her smile and soft features the only thing fooling their audience.</p><p>Chloe's retaliation had been something alright. Annabeth had never seen her lose her temper—<em>never. </em>And what a sight to behold. Chloe with her lithe frame hovering over the burly guard—the soul scared right out of him, eyes bulging from their sockets like a cornered animal. Annabeth's lips curled at the memory.</p><p>"In Hemitheopolis," Damian retorted. "We take care of our people—all of them. Is that what constitutes greatness nowadays?"</p><p>"In Megara," Cadmus replied coolly. "We take care of our people too. As many as we can afford to that is. The recent events haven't helped you know…with all these refugees we have been taking in on your request. Tell me, Polemarch. How many people does your city have?"</p><p>Damian did not answer. The scheming bastard was trying to get intel on Hemitheopolis. Unfortunately for him, Damian was far smarter than him. The idiot hadn't even thought of removing their weapons before they entered the chamber. Only time would tell if he'd rue the mistake.</p><p>"I am not here to play your games, my lord. I have come here with a proposal, one made by my father, a man you so fondly brought up earlier."</p><p>"Yes, yes," Cadmus put out his open hand. "Let's get this over with."</p><p>Chloe retrieved the scroll in her satchel and moved forward to hand it over to the Archon, never once breaking eye contact. Cadmus grabbed her by the wrist roughly, snatching the scroll with his other hand. "Show some respect, <em>girl,</em>" he growled.</p><p>Within a blink of an eye—Annabeth, her dagger held to his wrist, Damian blade trained on the Archon.</p><p>"Take your filthy hands off my wife," said Damian with a killing calm, drawing out every word, blade inching closer and closer. "Or you'll soon find that you'll be short of one."</p><p>For the first time since they arrived, a flash of fear glazing across the Archon's cold, calculating eyes. He let go of Chloe and met Damian's gaze as Annabeth pulled Chloe back.</p><p>"You dare threaten me in—"</p><p>"Yes," Damian said, sheathing his weapon. "Yes actually, I do." And it was the way he said it, with such unwavering defiance that made the majority of the remaining council squirm in their seats. They were clearly not accustomed to the Archon being challenged. This man—if you could even call him that, it seemed, ruled with fear.</p><p>Great. Exactly what they needed. Another problem that would eventually become theirs. A tyrant at the head of one the great city-states. Who ever said life was boring?</p><p>Cadmus, not wanting to show weakness—anymore that is—ignored Damian's rebellious comments and read through the scroll, pausing every now and then with a scoff or guffaw. Annabeth overheard Damian whispering to Chloe to stand back with Percy and Thalia, but she refused, standing beside him proudly, their fingers interlaced.</p><p>"You call this a proposition of mutual benefit?" Cadmus asked with raised brows. "All it seems like to me is an elaborate plan to disguise a desperate cry of help from Thebes. Why should I care? Why should my people care? We've always been the victims—caught in the middle. Why should I swoop in to play hero now?"</p><p>Annabeth noticed the use of 'I' instead of 'we'. A true tyrant.</p><p>"If you had been paying any attention," Annabeth smiled sweetly. "The army is gathering <em>between</em> Megara and Thebes. Who's to say that you're not the target? And if recall correctly, it was Megara's act of desecrating the <em>Hiera Orgas </em>that resulted in Athens levying the Megarian Decree upon you." Annabeth did not know why she bothered defending Athens. But it had been instinct.</p><p>"Those sanctions were unprecedented," Cadmus held firm. "It would have meant the end of this great city. Typical to always blame the victim isn't it. Easier even. Was it not Athens who started the wars by defecting from Sparta?"</p><p>Cadmus was right, of course.</p><p>"Besides…" Cadmus drawled. "I will not break the King's Peace."</p><p>This time Damian scoffed. "The King's Peace? Is he our king now? Have you subjugated yourself to the foreign king who had us played for fools? Who had fueled most of the bloodshed in this country?"</p><p>"Of course not!" Damian had rattled him alright. "Call it what you like. But we signed that treaty and promised to disband the Peloponnesian and Delian leagues, never to form another. The treaty states it clearly, <em>whichever of the two parties that does not accept this peace, upon them I will make war</em>, <em>in company with those who desire this arrangement, both by land and by sea, with ships and gold.</em>"</p><p>"It's funny isn't it my lord," Damian said, "That you fear an enemy across the sea more than the one gathering at your backyard."</p><p>"Foolish words of a foolish young boy," Cadmus replied, that flicker of fear showing itself again. "You would do well to fear the Persians. You weren't yet born when they tore this country apart with nothing more than their endless coffers of gold."</p><p>"Impeccable memory my lord," Annabeth cut in, voice laced with just enough sarcasm. "But if I do recall correctly, the treaty also states, <em>Greek cities, both small and great, should be left independent.</em> Does our offer state anything about governance? No, I don't think so. An alliance, that is all. The Peace of Antalcidas bars no such thing."</p><p>"A clever little thing, aren't you?" he scowled. Annabeth smiled defiantly. "Do you know how many gates my city has."</p><p>"Five,"</p><p>"Five, that's right. I wonder who will guard those five gates if I mobilize my army to aid you."</p><p>"You've made your stand," Damian said. "Give me your answer so that we can be done here."</p><p>"I decline," Cadmus said throwing the scroll back at Damian.</p><p>"I didn't realise you were a king," Damian taunted.</p><p>"Fine! You want a vote? Here," He stared down the members of his Aeropagus and asked, "All in favor of signing the agreement, raise your hands."</p><p>Not a single member moved an inch. They were under his thumb so completely, it seemed they had no mind or conscious of their own.</p><p>"Satisfied?" Cadmus glared at them all. "Now get out of my council chamber and get out of my city. As a gesture of my hospitality and my respect for your father," he sneered. "I'll give you a day to do so. After tomorrow, you will all be considered trespassers and will be treated as such."</p><p>"Is that an official ruling?" Annabeth asked sweetly.</p><p>Cadmus narrowed his eyes at her and dismissed the council. As the members of the Aeropagus left their seats and funneled to the exit, a particularly burly woman—a warrior it seemed from her bulging muscles and battle-scarred features, clumsily bumped her shoulder into Annabeth with such force it threw her to the ground. Cadmus and the lady shared a smirk.</p><p>A <em>warrior</em>, Annabeth scoffed at her earlier thought. Surely not—one without honor was a scoundrel at best. To work with and follow someone so despicable. Annabeth clenched her fist, only then with the movement, noticing the small, crumpled note in her sleeve. She retrieved the note—three words, hastily scribbled.</p><p>
  <em>ALEXO'S HUT, TONIGHT</em>
</p><hr/><p>Edited 3rd May 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Anyways that is it. The next couple of Chapters do have a political side to it before jumping straight back into the action. Hope it still keeps you guys engaged. If you guys were wondering, yes, the things I brought up are mostly based on real history. The king's peace was what ended the Corinthian war and the desecration of the Hiera Orgas, a sacred meadow, was one of the things that spiraled into the Peloponnesian wars.</strong>
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  <strong>Do leave a comment if you enjoyed the chapter</strong>
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<a name="section0023"><h2>23. The Usurper</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks for all the love on the past few chapters.</p><p>In other news, my semester has started for two weeks now and I've gotten a lot busier.  So, I'll only be posting twice a month till the end of March.<br/>This will make things slightly easier for me as the next couple of chapters require some reordering and heavy rewriting.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Damian</p><p>"Alexo…wasn't he the one who healed you?" Chloe asked as Annabeth showed the others the note in a shaded alley. Damian was the only one who did not take a second glance at the crumpled piece of parchment. He did not welcome the images that came. Twice a broken body in his arms as he stumbled through that doorway. First Annabeth then…</p><p>"He was," Annabeth answered, sharing his haunted gaze.</p><p>"Then, I'll have to thank him," Chloe said simply. "Lead the way."</p><p>Damian cut across her and blocked the narrow alley with an outstretched arm. Chloe's features crumbled into concern. "We can't," he said, practically begging. "You know we can't."</p><p>"You saw them too, Damian." Chloe features knitted together in defiance, "The people of this city. How am I supposed to stand aside as they suffer at the hand of that bastard? How are any of us to?" Chloe whipped her head back looking for support in the matter. Annabeth looked torn between two minds. Thalia, ready to take on the world. Percy, a dark lowered gaze.</p><p>"Even if there was a way to help without breaking our ancient laws," Damian chose his words carefully, "We simply do not have the time. Cadmus may be a bastard, but he's an intelligent one. He knows we have enough problems as it is. He knows we can't be adding a war with Megara on our platters. And make no mistake, that is what it will come to should we meddle in his affairs. The man is a snake whose venom has seeped deep into the lifeblood of this city."</p><p>"Not to mention the fact that this will be our last night in this city if that vile pig holds up his end of the threat." Annabeth added. Chloe's defiance seemed to shatter in defeat.</p><p>"We have to help them," Chloe pleaded. "We have to."</p><p>"I'm with Chloe on this," Thalia closed the distance between them, fingers gripped tightly around the hilt of her Xiphos. "These people need our help. What is the point of all this power if we don't use it for good?"</p><p>"Err…guys," Percy flicked his gaze between the two ends of the alley. "Maybe we should lower our voices when plotting treason?"</p><p>Thalia glared at him.</p><p>"Hey," Percy protested, arms splayed. "I'm on your side too. We have to help."</p><p>"There are no sides here," Damian sighed, letting his hands drop to his side. "I want to help them as much as the rest of you. But you know our laws-"</p><p>"Percy and I don't," Thalia cut-in, glaring. Was she always so angry?</p><p>"We don't interfere with mortal conflicts," Annabeth explained.</p><p>"Aren't we though?" Thalia challenged. "Isn't forming the Grecian league interfering?"</p><p>"You may have a point," said Damian. "But there is a difference between uniting them against an army of monsters and challenging their ways. What if they retaliate—start a war perhaps—even one battle. What then? Would you be fine if I commanded you to smite them with your powers—those soldiers who were just following instructions. Why stop there? Why not take over every city-state and lead this country into a new era of peace? Who would have the power to oppose us?"</p><p>"Point taken," Thalia grumbled.</p><p>Chloe who had been silent for a time, head hung low, met his gaze with a determined, almost desperate look. "Alexo's hut is just outside the gates, isn't it? We should at least visit him to replenish our medical supplies."</p><p>She did not need to add the fact that listening to the lady's proposition was her real motive. Damian knew but he could not do a damn thing against it. Not when she gave him that look.</p><hr/><p>Damian approached Alexo's hut under the moonlight as silently as possible. The slight possibility of this being a trap playing on Damian's mind. That and the damned images of that night, splintering and pounding. He had been in different state of mind then. A darkness that had crept into his soul. He never wanted anything to do with that darkness again. But here he was, getting closer and closer with every step-</p><p>A trap. Yes—that was what he was supposed to be looking out for. Anyone could have spotted him and Annabeth that first night they'd been there and used the information to lure them in. These days, it was always better to be safe than sorry.</p><p>Crouched low and creeping towards the nearest window, he peeked in. There were flames dancing against the walls from a nearby candle. Two shadows casually sat at a table. Damian released the breath he was holding. Good, it couldn't be a trap. He crept back along the wall and signaled the others to proceed.</p><p>Brushing themselves off of any stray dirt and twigs, they approached the front door.</p><p>"This is our chance," a lady's voice could be heard—probably the one who had given them the message. "One we have waited for, for far too long."</p><p>Another voice replied, a familiarly deep one, Alexo. "One <em>you</em> have been waiting for, not me."</p><p>"It has to be you." The lady insisted.</p><p>Damian not wanting to be rude and further eavesdrop, knocked on the door and cleared his throat.</p><p>"Hello," he announced himself. "We're here because of the note you left us."</p><p>"Please," said Alexo, his lumbering footsteps ever approaching. "Please come—" he froze when he recognized Annabeth and Damian, face darkening. He had lost one dear to him too that night.</p><p>"Let the guests in, Alexo." The lady called from inside. "Don't be rude."</p><p>He stepped aside letting all five of them in. The hut looked…different to say the least. What was once a mess of books and herbs and all sorts of odds and ends, was now quite a homely home to say the least. Everything was neat, shelves organized, tables clear of clutter. Wooden floorboards shining in the candlelight as if they had been recently polished. As Damian turned into the dining area, and caught a glimpse of the lady, he was certain her presence was the cause of this. Who was she to Alexo that it changed him so?</p><p>"Please, sit and dig in." The lady said kindly, in no way resembling the cruel woman that had sat in the council chamber. Before her, a veritable feast had been lain out. "I had not expected you so soon. I thought it would've taken you some time at least to find out who Alexo was but judging from the face my husband is giving now, it is clear that you all are acquainted."</p><p>"Not all of us ma'am," Chloe smiled politely.</p><p>"None of that ma'am business, please. You can call me Calista."</p><p>"We cannot thank you enough for the food," Chloe added as they settled into their seats. The rest of them echoed her sentiments.</p><p>"It's nothing. It is you that I have to thank. I have waited all my life to see someone stand up against that tyrant." Calista shot Alexo a pointed look who in return, scowled. "It was a joy to behold."</p><p>"Not to be rude," Damian started. "But why have you called us here?"</p><p>"I have information," she explained. "Information that can finally end Cadmus's reign—"</p><p>"We can't help you," Damian said as politely as possible, but not so much so that his point was not put across.</p><p>"I know all about the code you Hemitheopolians live by," she continued. "I'm married to one for god's sake."</p><p>Damian flicked his gaze to Alexo, who was scrubbing his chin with his hand. "That's how you knew Dorian. You're a demigod?"</p><p>"Aye, a son of Hermes," he said. Everything from his tone to his posture, reluctant. "I was close friends with your father. You look a lot like him you know."</p><p>"Why didn't you say anything before?" Damian asked.</p><p>"I had preferred the past, stay in the past." Alexo sighed. "But it seems the past has a way with catching up to me."</p><p>Calista, a slight frown upon her lips, continued. "I suppose I should start from the beginning. My husband left Hemitheopolis shortly after the Battle of Corinth."</p><p>"You fought at Corinth," said Annabeth, wide-eyed as she turned to Alexo.</p><p>"We both did," Calista's smile one that hid years of sorrow. Too similar to the one's of his father and Dorian alike. "We met at the vanguard. He hasn't been able to get his eyes off me ever since. That's why he left you know." The gaze the pair held was filled with much more than love. Longing, regret, despair.</p><p>"After something like that," Alexo paused for a moment, seemingly searching for the right words. "A fresh start is what you need."</p><p>"And he found it alright," Calista reached over and squeezed her husband's hand. "We moved to Megara and we were happy for a long time. As the days flew by and the seasons changed, he became the most sought out healer in the city. The people raved about him so often and so vocally that he was appointed to serve upon the Aeropagus. Those were different times…we did not yet know what Cadmus was capable of. So being the brave man he is, my husband found himself opposing Cadmus in almost every decision."</p><p>"Brave eh," Alexo scoffed. "I was an arrogant fool who thought himself infallible."</p><p>"You couldn't have known,"</p><p>"Deep down I should have. The man is a monster," the warning in Alexo's voice directed at Damian. "His disregard for life, dangerously blatant. I pushed and I pushed. And over time the others on the council stood with me. One day, word began to spread that the people were ready to vote him out…" he trailed off, bracing his palms against the table as if he wanted nothing more than to leave.</p><p>"You have to move forward," Calista urged him on. Damian had a feeling that she did not only mean the story.</p><p>"One night," Alexo croaked, voice raw, broken. "That was all it took. One night and all the strategoi who opposed him were found dead alongside their families—slaughtered in their sleep."</p><p>"We were lucky to escape with our lives," Calista continued for him. "The screams of our neighbors the warning we needed. And so, we fled back to Corinth where we had first met. Years later, we returned with new names and identities for we knew Cadmus had to be stopped. It took me years of suffering and a constant violation of my morals to get a place on that cursed council."</p><p>"You were the one who insisted we return. I did not ask for this and I did not ask of you this." Alexo argued.</p><p>"But you stayed, didn't you?"</p><p>"I stayed for you and for all the people who needed my help. Not to seize power!" Alexo slammed his fists on the table, sending crumbs of food flying through the air. Calista's reaction was nothing short of brutal. A disappointed shake of the head followed by a stoic refusal to show him any attention. Sensing the tension, Chloe tried to ease it.</p><p>"I don't understand," said Chloe, "Why now?"</p><p>"You see, my girl," Calista explained. "Cadmus has gotten away with all he has done so far, for he has the support of the wealthy. It has always been his way; make the rich, richer and the poor, poorer. But you saw the ports, didn't you?" Chloe nodded. "When the coffers of the wealthy run dry, they become…restless, to say the least—the damned cowards. They expect immediate results and are already starting to question his rule. What would they then say when word spreads of Cadmus rejecting an alliance that will protect them from an army of monsters gathering in their backyard? Especially one that comes at no cost to them. Nothing of value to them at least. Only thousands of innocent lives."</p><p>"Devious," Annabeth grinned. "I love it. If there is one thing the wealthy care more about than their coffers, it is their own hides."</p><p>"Exactly my point," Calista clenched her fist. "The time is ripe for us to make a move. Call for an Ostraka now and we may just get rid of Cadmus. And if he dares disobey the ancient laws, the people will rise up and he'll find that a coup will be upon him. But first, the wheels have to be set into motion. We'll have to make contact with the wealthy and powerful families in secret and form a strong foundation for the new leader to build upon."</p><p>"And you want me to be that new leader," Alexo glared with crossed arms.</p><p>Calista glared back. "You are the only option. The rest of us have blood on our hands. The common folk will not support someone who has worked for or under Cadmus. But if you reveal your true identity and stake your claim as Archon, then and only then will our following gain traction. For the first time in a long time, both the rich and poor will support their leader." Her expression softened as she saw how torn her husband looked.</p><p>"I walk the streets every day. The people have not yet forgotten your story—the story of Ilias, the one man who dared stand against their oppressor. You became a martyr that night and the common-folk have prayed every day for someone like you to show up again. Imagine what they would do when <em>you</em> return, in the flesh, a survivor—a liberator." She turned her earnest gaze to Chloe now, "And you, young lady, have already made an impression on them too—reminded them of him even. Stay with us for a couple days. You and all your friends—the heroes who fought for them when no one else would and maybe, just maybe we will have a shot at success."</p><p>"This could work," Annabeth nodded enthusiastically, looking at Damian for approval. "Taking him down from the inside and with his own people. Hemitheopolis won't be held accountable so Cadmus would not be able to retaliate. Even if he tried, the wealthy families would not support him. Nor will the soldiers."</p><p>Chloe met his eyes and that rage of hers that had been brewing since they arrived was no more. Her smile was all defeat and acceptance.</p><p>"We can't," Chloe said, resulting in incredulous looks from Thalia and Calista. "I'm sorry. I truly am, but we don't have the time to spare sitting around for days in the hope that we overthrow Cadmus. As much as I would love to see it, we have to take decisive action elsewhere. This is your fight," Chloe lifted her eyes to Alexo, "Thank you for healing Annabeth. You have my eternal gratitude, for she means the world to me. Take up the fight, Alexo. Not for yourself, but for your people. I have seen how they suffer—"</p><p>"I know how they suffer!" That haunted look upon his face again. "Every day I try to help and heal as many of them as possible, but there is always more—always."</p><p>"Then fight for them!" Calista had kicked back her chair now, towering over her husband. "I fell in love with you for a reason. Because you always fought for what was right! What changed?" Alexo just sat there burying his head in his hands.</p><p>"From one healer to another," Chloe said, "I know how difficult it is to accept but sometimes…sometimes we are just not enough. There are times where warriors and leaders are needed instead. Take back your city—usurp the cancer that has latched onto it. You can't keep treating the symptoms forever."</p><p>"I know," Alexo growled. "But I swore an oath to myself to never fight again, not after Corinth and not after I got all those families killed."</p><p>"And you swore an oath to always stand by me." Calista was leaning towards him, one hand resting on the table, the other on the frame of his chair. Like a predator cornering its prey. "Till death do us part."</p><p>"Why do you always have to be right," he grumbled. A long silence then a heavy breath. "Fine, I'll stand for Archon, and if the people—gods help them—elect me, I will serve this city, but only with you beside me."</p><p>"I wouldn't have it any other way," Calista grinned and kissed her husband. As Calista returned to her seat, Damian caught Chloe's eye and stared in realization. He had never seen this side of her before, but now that he did, he could not believe he hadn't before. She was a leader, the kind this country needed in these dark times. And he smiled at the thought. The thought of her being at his side for all that is to come. He reached for her hand and interlaced his fingers with hers, reaching for that familiar comfort.</p><p>"We will need two things from you," said Calista. "The scroll, for us to sign once we liberate this city and the location of the gathering army of monsters so that we may rally and join you once possible."</p><p>Annabeth obliged, handing her the scroll and when Calista brandished a map, she was the first to mark the location.</p><p>"You weren't kidding," Calista commented. "They <em>are</em> in our backyard. Thank you for everything. Now let us put everything aside and have this meal together before it gets cold."</p><p>And so, they did. It was a reinvigorating meal. Roasted quail and fried fish, with a wide array of vegetables and a platter of cheese. They talked about Hemitheopolis, about how it had changed since then and how they were faring now. And slowly each of them sunk deeper and deeper into their own conversations. Chloe was enamored with Alexo as they spoke about new and experimental remedies, like the one he had used on Annabeth. They shared their experiences and their methods, both unable to stop praising one another. Thalia and Percy were back to their usual antics, now arguing about god knows what. Something about Percy worrying too much about her, and Percy claiming the opposite to be true. Annabeth on the other hand was excitedly rambling about Calista's choice of weapons, an exquisite pair of twin swords which must have reminded Annabeth of her own weapons. A smile twitched at his lips. The world was coming to an end, yet around this table sat the people who could change its fate, and to see them so full of life, it strengthened and renewed his hope that they would come out of this victorious.</p><hr/><p>Thalia</p><p>Thalia sat in the living room, waiting for the others to get ready for bed. Alexo and Calista had insisted they stay the night in the guest rooms. It would not be wise to stay within the walls after what they had done, after all, Cadmus was not above slaughtering his enemies while they slept. Off in the distance, she heard the couple arguing.</p><p>"Stay with me—just for tonight," Alexo's voice almost pleading.</p><p>"You know I can't," Calista sighed. "Not when we're this close. If even one of the bastard's spies notices that I have left the walls and not returned…you know how paranoid he is. Even after all I have done for him-" Thalia sensed the weight of the woman's words. The choked sob within them. The abhorrence behind them. Thalia found that with every thought, her hatred for Cadmus bubbled—more so than even she thought possible. He was a mockery of what it meant to be a leader…a human. A vile, repugnant creature that was no worse than all the demons she had faced.</p><p>Thalia brought her thoughts to a grinding halt. Not here. Not when there were others around. She was volatile. A walking beacon of death that both attracted and caused it. Yet she hadn't lost control of her powers when she broke down in front of Percy. Perhaps Chloe's lessons were helping. Speaking of the others, what was taking them so long?</p><p>Percy and Damian had been given one room while Thalia, Annabeth and Chloe were given the other. This was obviously much to Damian and Chloe's dismay. Percy had offered to sleep in the hall so that Chloe and Damian could have the room, but Chloe had kindly refused, flustering, and stumbling over her words. Gods, he could be dense…</p><p>A small part of her wondered, for just a moment, what it would feel like to love someone so much that it hurt—actually hurt to be apart from them, even for a night.</p><p>"How's your back healing?" Percy's voice cutting through her thoughts.</p><p>"As fine as it did when you last asked," she snapped. "Which if I recall was only an hour ago…I'm sorry—I'm just tired. I could ask you the same you know."</p><p>"Oh me," Percy smiled. "I've never felt better." He dropped himself next to her.</p><p>"Then what's with the frown,"</p><p>"Just thinking…" his voice trailed off.</p><p>"About," she drew out the word, recognizing that look on his face. The same one he had worn in that cave.</p><p>"It's just…how can I be a hero if I'm such a coward?" He was gripping his knees, avoiding her gaze.</p><p>"Stop—we've been through this before. You're not," Where were these thoughts coming from and why now? He had been so strong for her in that forest when she had needed him most. "You've been there with me through it all. I never saw you run from a challenge—never."</p><p>"I did, back on that hill when the hellhound horde appeared. I gave up, Thalia. I chose death—felt it easier than continuing with this life-"</p><p>"I almost did too." His eyes widened. "But then I remembered my promise. I won't let you die on my watch. So be a coward all you want. It doesn't matter. I'll slap the sense into you whenever you need me to."</p><p>"Wow," Percy shook his head in bewilderment. "Now that was a great pep talk."</p><p>"It was, wasn't it," She laughed. "We should call it a night," she managed while stifling a yawn. "We'll need all the rest we can get."</p><p>"Good night, Thalia."</p><p>"Good night, Percy."</p><p>She waved at him as he slid into his room, and her heart fluttered at the smile he offered in return. She realised then, how heavily she had come to rely on him, even more so than she had anticipated. So much so that she had been taken aback when he had needed her help instead. How had the tables flipped so quickly? She shook her head in disbelief.</p><p>Thalia made her way to her own room, only to find Chloe and Damian sat on the edge of the bed, hands intertwined. She cleared her throat, "May I borrow him for a moment?" Now was a good a time as any to ask the questions that had kindled within her ever since she'd arrived at Hemitheopolis.</p><p>"Sure." Chloe said with a raised eyebrow, understandably intrigued.</p><p>"I just have a few questions for him," Thalia said in defense.</p><p>Chloe raised her arms, "You don't have to tell me, it's alright."</p><p>Damian followed her out the door and to a quiet corner.</p><p>"What's on your mind?" Damian asked, leaning casually against the wall.</p><p>"How would one know if they are a second-generation demigod?" she asked.</p><p>"Hmm…let me see. It's difficult to say. Developing powers from two different gods is rare. Why do you ask?"</p><p>Thalia's silence and uncertainty, enough for him to come to the conclusion.</p><p>"<em>Mm</em>…I know what it's like to want to know more about your parents," said Damian, his back straightened, brows knitted in concern.</p><p>"Your mother didn't abandon you."</p><p>"No, she didn't. That's besides the point. It is difficult not knowing. I know how <em>that</em> feels." Damian insisted. "Have you developed any other powers? Powers that have nothing to do with Zeus?"</p><p>Thalia shook her head, "Not that I'm aware of."</p><p>Damian tapped his feet in thought. "Have you felt a sort of connection to any other god?"</p><p>Thalia reached instinctively for her necklace, "Yes, yes I have."</p><p>"It could mean that one of your parents is a child of Zeus, while the other is a child of that god. It is however highly unlikely. There hasn't been a child of Zeus in a long time and one would not be able to hide unbeknownst to the world, even if he or she wanted to."</p><p>Stupid. That was what she was for pursuing down this road. This hope. To what end. Her parents, regardless who they were had made their choice a long time ago. They had abandoned her. But, Thalia knew a part of her would never truly be at peace until she discovered her true heritage. She needed to look them in the eyes and ask them why. Had she not been good enough for them?</p><p>"I'll tell you what," Damian offered his hand. "When all of this is over, I'll help you find out more about your parents." Thalia accepted, locking forearms. "That's a promise. And maybe you can help me interrogate my father in exchange." Damian joked. "He has always been tight-lipped when it has come to my mother and you can be quite intimidating when you want to be. You should have seen the look on Annabeth's face when you challenged her in the dining hall that first night."</p><p>"Oh, I did." Thalia grinned.</p><hr/><p>Annabeth</p><p>"Where's Damian?" Annabeth asked, leaning within the doorframe. Chloe gestured for her to join her.</p><p>"He's with Thalia," Chloe said. "She wanted to ask him a couple of questions." Annabeth raised her eyebrows at that. "Unexpected, I know."</p><p>"So, tomorrow's the big day huh" Annabeth said. "I'm gonna miss you."</p><p>Chloe wrapped her arm around Annabeth and rested her head on her shoulder. "I'll miss you too, more than you can imagine."</p><p>"Take care of Damian, will you? He needs you more than he lets on."</p><p>"I know," Chloe said. "He enjoys brooding in solitude far too often, but he's getting better now."</p><p>"You have that effect on people," Annabeth said with a smirk.</p><p>"And you, take care of Percy and Thalia, they're strong but will need your experience. And please try not to pick a fight with Thalia, she's hot-headed, even more so than you."</p><p>Annabeth frowned at the comment, "What do you mean, I'm hot-headed?"</p><p>Chloe raised an eyebrow in reply.</p><p>Annabeth realizing the extent of her reaction, laughed at herself. "Fine, you may have a point."</p><p>"But don't worry too much, she seems to listen to Percy."</p><p>"Are we talking about the same two people here?" Annabeth said skeptically. "All I ever see them do is argue. And over the stupidest things."</p><p>"They do do that, don't they?" Chloe mused.</p><p>"A lot," Annabeth rolled her tongue.</p><p>"But I see how they are when they're left alone or when the other is in danger. That level of trust and devotion is something pure to witness."</p><p>"I suppose you're right," Annabeth considered the matter. "It must have been difficult for them, losing everything—being alone in this world." A mirror of what her life might had been if she had not been taken in by Chloe and her father.</p><p>"But they found each other," Chloe smiled. "And they found us. So, it's up to us to be there for them—guide them whenever possible."</p><p>"I'll try my best—like you did for me," said Annabeth, leaning her head against Chloe's.</p><p>"And Annabeth,"</p><p>"Hmm,"</p><p>"Try not to be too hard on my father." Chloe begged</p><p>"I wasn't going—"</p><p>"Annabeth." Chloe held her gaze.</p><p>"How could he have let it happen? Spartan soldiers are dying as we speak."</p><p>"You know he would have tried," Chloe said with a confidence Annabeth knew too well was feigned. Khnurn was a kind man but he was also a realist. It was what made him and her own father such a formidable partnership. A realist and Idealist working together to seek the unlearnt truths of this world.</p><p>"He's only one man among an entire council," Chloe added. "Give him my love. And tell him about Damian and me. I would very much like his blessing. I only wish they could meet."</p><p>"One day, after all this is over," said Annabeth. Those words that Damian seemed to always use. "We'll visit your father—all of us—and he'll love Damian, I know he will."</p><p>"Let us pray that day is soon," Chloe let out a heavy sigh. "I miss him."</p><p>"Me too," Annabeth said, pulling Chloe in close for a hug. "Me too."</p><p>They heard the heavy thud of footsteps as Thalia returned, Damian following close behind, stopping in the doorway. "Good night," he wished.</p><p>"Good night," Chloe and Annabeth echoed.</p><p>Thalia stood there in awkward silence, not knowing what to say or do. Annabeth was not going to lie. Her interest was piqued. What was it that had been discussed between them?</p><p>"Take the bed," Chloe said. "Annabeth and I will sleep on the cushions."</p><p>"No, one of you take the bed." Thalia protested.</p><p>"For as long as you are my patient," Chloe insisted, "you will do as I say."</p><p>Thalia grumbled something along the lines of '<em>and Damian said I was intimidating.'</em></p><hr/><p>Edited 3rd May 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>And there you have it, more information on the political landscape in the story.</strong>
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  <strong>How'd you guys like it? I tried adding a lot more dialogue and character moments to balance the political exposition.</strong>
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  <strong>Do leave a comment if you enjoyed the chapter</strong>
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  <strong>I'd really appreciate it</strong>
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<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Apart Yet Together</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks for all the love on the past few chapters.</p><p>This one is kinda short because it's just kind of an in-between before the group splits again. The next chapter will make up for it I'm sure.</p><p>In other news, I have created a discord server upon some suggestions from my readers. You guys are the best. I'd never thought I'd have this many interactions and it means the world to me.</p><p>Link: https://discord.gg/Cxrckpd8</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Percy</p><p>The morning slipped by in a blur. A quick hearty breakfast had been whipped up for them, bread and eggs, courtesy of Alexo. A parting gift, he had said with a grim smile. A replenishing of supplies—also included. Percy devoured the food, only to have a disgusted look sent his way.</p><p>"What," he threw his hands out in defence, mouth still stuffed with food.</p><p>Thalia shook her head, a wisp of a smile playing on her lips. A good meal such as this would be impossible to come by on the road. Nibbling on bread and cheese was fine and all, but nothing could ever compare to a warm home-cooked meal. That warmth that seemed to reach further and deeper than food ought. Percy did not say it then, but the food reminded him of his mother. Hell, everything did.</p><p>After breakfast, they bid their farewells, and thanked their host profusely. The next time they'd meet would be on the battlefield, or so they hoped. An odd thing to wish for, Percy reflected, but such were the times the realm had fallen into.</p><p>They ventured into the city in search of a horse merchant. Passing through the gates again was…difficult. Perhaps more so this time, now that he knew that the suffering that hung in the air was imposed by that of the Archon himself.</p><p>The sight of the people a reminder of his village, how Kastelli had been during those last few days. That cursed storm that had brought famine with it. There were those of the common-folk that recognized them, their eyes glimmering with a faint hope only for it to be snuffed out as they passed. There was no more food and supplies to spare if they were to succeed in their journey. His heart ached for them, straining against his chest. He'd rather starve than watch them suffer. And just when he thought he couldn't feel worse, he caught a glimpse of Chloe, the distraught tearing her from within, the only things holding her together, Damian and Annabeth. What they were doing now…</p><p>It went against everything she believed in as a healer. And if she could be strong enough to endure this, Percy would have to be too. As the five of them trudged through the city, crestfallen and despondent, Percy noticed that there were also those whose eyes glimmered with something else entirely. Rebellion. The people were ready, for someone or something—a symbol strong enough to rally every soul and overthrow the tyrant that held the city within his grasp.</p><p>Percy stole a sideways glance at Thalia. She too was trembling with barely contained rage. The inner ring of the city was exactly as it had been yesterday—no surprises there—its pristine environment a mockery of those who suffered only a few steps away. The only difference the wall that stood between them and the weight of their pockets.</p><p>The city's horse merchants were lined against said wall. A vain city—that was what Megara was. They claimed horses to be the pride of their city, the symbol of what they had achieved and excelled at like no other had done before, but apparently not enough so to live among the magnificent creatures. For here they were, shoved off to a cramped corner of the city, as far away as possible, but not too far lest the pompous be in the presence of the honest folk who bled for their comfort. Deep in thought, it was Thalia's voice that halted him.</p><p>"Over there," she pointed. "That's him—the man that fits Calista's description." Thalia was right of course. And so was Calista when she had described the man as…<em>crazed</em>.</p><p>He was not old—not young either. Hair sticking up in places but flopping down in others, scars running across his lopsided grin, a wild sheen to his dark eyes. Yet all that was still not enough to garner Percy's full attention. Not when behind him was a veritable sea of colors. Breathing, living colors, trotting along in circles. A herd that blended the purest whites and the inkiest blacks.</p><p>"What ye looking at?" the man shoved a finger between Percy's eyes—trying to, at least. His stature not aiding in his case. "These are my steeds…so step away."</p><p>"Err..." Percy managed, not at all intimidated but not wanting to humiliate the man.</p><p>Thalia had no such qualms, the pouch of gold Damian had handed to her earlier within her grasp, held up in such a manner that the merchant would have to stretch for it. "What can we get with these?"</p><p>"Not much," the man huffed, tilting his head at a jaunty angle.</p><p>Percy shot Thalia a look, '<em>play nice…please.'</em></p><p>Her returning stare a resolute '<em>why should I?'</em></p><p>Finally, she conceded, dropping the pouch on the man's counter. With wounded pride, the man lifted the pouch, as if to weigh it by hand. A few flicks here, a few spins there and one sniff later, the man dropped the pouch too, this time to the ground with a resounding clang.</p><p>Thalia narrowed her eyes, leaning over the counter, her weight resting on her palms. The man mirrored her.</p><p>"I shall not waste your time as you have mine," he said with a chuckle that bordered on being a giggle. "You won't get a palfrey for this. Not here, not anywhere."</p><p>Damian came to the rescue. "Calista sent us."</p><p>The man broke into a weary smile, backing up from his counter. "I'm sorry—who? I don't know who that is."</p><p>Thalia was <em>this </em>close to flipping the counter, Percy could tell. Damian, though, held his composure immaculately.</p><p>"Who sent you?" the merchant asked.</p><p>"Relax," Damian signaled for the others to step back, or at least that was what it looked like. In actuality, he had asked them to station themselves as planned. "Like I said…we were sent by Calista."</p><p>"Why now? Why after all these years? I have lived a good life…a quiet one," he stammered. Percy wouldn't call anything about this man quiet. But he felt bad for him, nonetheless. "I cannot bring attention to myself. Not now. I have a wife—a child coming to."</p><p>"It is time we wrestled the serpent from this city," Damian's words exactly as Calista had instructed. A signal or a promise. For some reason or another, this man owed Calista a favor. A favor he had hoped to never have to fulfill. According to Calista, there was a high chance he would try to flee.</p><p>The man surveyed his surroundings, the realization that he was trapped dawning on him. He let out a heavy sigh, trailing his fingers across his many scars. So <em>that</em> was the reason. Percy would bet anything that those scars were of Cadmus's doings and that the only reason this man still stood before him, alive, was Calista.</p><p>"What does she need?" he conceded.</p><p>"Not much," Damian handed him a slip of paper. "Spread this message to those on this side of the wall. The families you once stood amongst. I have been told you have your networks. That and five coursers for the road."</p><p>"Is that all?" the man asked. The question tentative, as if he did not dare hope his payment fulfilled.</p><p>"That is all,"</p><hr/><p>"Do you know how to ride?" Percy asked, with a sideways glance.</p><p>"Of course," Thalia scoffed. "Sparta may not be known for its cavalry, but riding was still an essential lesson," she stared at him for a moment before realizing why he had asked the question in the first place. "There's no shame in not knowing how to ride," Thalia smiled. "I don't know how to sail, and you o' greatest fishermen on Crete are a master sailor." She said it with an absolute conviction and with a tone that suggested dead seriousness.</p><p>"I knew you would come to your senses one day and revel in my talents," he grinned.</p><p>"They're beautiful and loyal creatures," she continued.</p><p>"I know,"</p><p>"Come, I'll show you," Thalia tugged at his arm, guiding him towards the creatures, one in particular. Percy sucked in his breath at the sheer elegance that stood before him. That coat of black that resembled the abyss, its eyes a warm hazel that seemed to expand in recognition.</p><p>"She's…breathtaking," Percy managed. Thalia nodded in agreement, pulling him closer still.</p><p>"Here," she guided his hand to the horse's muzzle and left it there as she leaned forward and stroked its neck. The horse whinnied in satisfaction, sending vibrations all the way through Percy's arm. The immense power within every breath. In and out, in and out…</p><p>Then it was like his thoughts were not only his own—a presence brushing against his. So much pent-up aggression in such a gentle vessel—a frustration, a hunger…</p><p>Percy stumbled back, his mind whirling from the flood of uninvited thoughts.</p><p>"What happened?" Thalia asked.</p><p>"She's hungry," he said aloud.</p><p>"What?" Thalia threw her arms out, looking around if anybody had heard Percy. "No, I'm not!" She hissed.</p><p>"I <em>meant </em>the horse,"</p><p>"Oh," she blushed. "You could tell from just a touch?" she raised her eyebrows skeptically.</p><p>"I could hear—no, <em>feel </em>her thoughts…all of them."</p><p>"I guess that sort of makes sense…" Thalia seemed to consider the matter. "Poseidon is after all the lord of horses."</p><p>"That is <em>not</em> a power I would have asked for," Percy said, shaking his head in disbelief. The horse was back at his side, nuzzling his shoulder.</p><p>"Looks like someone's taken a liking to you."</p><hr/><p>Once they each had their steeds, the five of them rode out the city wishing that the next time they visited, the city would be under different leadership. They journeyed together for a time—days passed with the winds and trees.</p><p>Peace…<em>never again</em>, he had promised…<em>never again</em>, he had screamed. Yet it was what undeniably filled his heart. A peace that ventured dangerously close to happiness. With every second he spent with his companions; an attachment seemed to bloom—an idea…a new beginning. They talked and smiled and laughed so much it hurt. But then they stopped, and the idea ended as all good things did.</p><p>"This is where we part," Damian announced with a sad smile. They had all gotten of their mares, to say their goodbyes.</p><p>Percy clasped Damian's forearm and gave it a firm shake. "Good luck."</p><p>"You too," he said, soft enough for only Percy to hear. "Train hard and often. And soon enough you'll be as good as the rest of us, perhaps better."</p><p>Percy nodded, appreciative of the support. The advice, however, was not needed; he had planned to do so already. It was the one promise Percy dared not break yet always did. To never see someone he cared for, hurt. He had failed at it all his life and he had failed once again when the giants had attacked. Hell, he would probably fail again. And the best way to break that cycle was to better himself.</p><p>"Thank you," said Percy. "For the lessons—for everything."</p><p>"You can thank me after all this is over." He said placing a firm hand on Percy's shoulder. "Take care of each other," his voice now raised for all of them to hear, "All of you."</p><p>"I would tell the two of you to take care of each other too," Annabeth said, a coy grin spreading across her face. "But that would be unnecessary. Chloe will be doing most of the heavy lifting."</p><p>Chloe opened her mouth to argue the fact and come to Damian's defense, but he already had an arm wrapped around her waist, smiling down at her, "Would that be so wrong?"</p><p>"Ugh," Annabeth shot them a disgusted look. "You guys make me sick."</p><p>Chloe, a goofy sort of daze still hanging over her, turned to Percy and Thalia.</p><p>"You've done remarkably well so far." she said. "I watched you guys take down that giant with only a fraction of your abilities. That's how it should be—precision over power. But there is always a time where a hammer is required over a chisel. Practice as often as possible, so that when the time comes, the two of you will be strong enough."</p><p>"We will," Thalia promised, offering her hand.</p><p>"None of that shaking of hands business," Chloe said with arms raised wide. "Bring it in." Thalia grumbled but did not object when Chloe pulled her in for an embrace. Chloe eyed Percy from over Thalia's shoulder and beckoned, "you too, Percy." She released Thalia, and pulled Percy in, her warmth, not only physical, was all encompassing. He would miss her.</p><p>"What will we do without you?" Percy whispered. "Thalia and I have a thing for getting severely incapacitated."</p><p>"You'll be fine," she said rubbing his back reassuringly. "Annabeth knows the basics."</p><p>She pulled away and went to Annabeth next. Chloe squeezed Annabeth so tight, that her eyes were bulging. They held on to each other for some time, neither willing to let go. When finally, and reluctantly, Annabeth pulled away, Percy saw the unspoken sorrow. He realised then how hard this was for the two of them. Annabeth was being forced to part from her two closest friends while Chloe would be missing the chance to visit her home and her father. Five years…</p><p>Percy could not imagine leaving his home and family behind for so long but imagine he must for his time would come.</p><p>"We'll meet again at Corinth," said Damian, after having said his goodbyes to Annabeth. Chloe and Annabeth had seen fit to suffocate him within another embrace. "If either party does not arrive within three days of the other's arrival, return to Hemitheopolis first and bring whatever news there is straight to my father."</p><hr/><p>Chloe</p><p>Chloe missed the others already. The silence that had been left in their wake. It didn't help that Damian was being extremely quiet, more so than usual. He seemed…<em>distracted</em>, staring off into the distance every so often. They had chosen the longer route, curving far around the valley of monsters.</p><p>"What's wrong?" she asked, steering her mount closer to his.</p><p>"Nothing," he answered too quickly. The ripple of pain she witnessed a clear indicator of a lie. She held her gaze until he succumbed. "You see that hill over there? That's where it happened." He was pointing to where his gaze had been drifting to all this while. Chloe felt a tightness coil within her. She should have been there for him that night and she should have been there for him now. When had she become so terrible at reading him?</p><p>"What are <em>you</em> thinking about?" Damian prodded.</p><p>"That I should have been there for you." Chloe admitted.</p><p>"You were," Damian said, pointing to his heart. "You're always with me." She gave him her best smile, lips trembling and tears threatening to spill. They continued forth in silence. The comfort of his presence everything she had ever wanted. A feeling of safety, of home. An aura so powerful, Chloe was sure it would protect her from all the dangers of the world. For as long as they had each other, nothing could hurt them—not truly.</p><p>"That plateau," Damian started. "It may give us a view of the valley."</p><p>"The one full of monsters that we have been expressly avoiding?" she chewed on her lip. "Do you think it is worth the risk?" Damian nodded and that was enough to calm her nerves, "Lead on."</p><p>They left their horses a way off and crawled on their stomachs, the tall grass hopefully acting as sufficient cover. Her heart seemed to drop off the cliff as she reached its precipice…</p><p>Chloe had heard it described by Damian and Annabeth, but words could not prepare her for what beheld her. Squadrons and squadrons of monsters as far as the eye could see. They were like specks of paint against the green and grey canvas that was the valley.</p><p>"We can take them," Damian interlaced his fingers between hers and squeezed.</p><p>"If Megara comes to our aid." Chloe warned.</p><p>"They'll come," Damian said. "And if they don't, we'll still win."</p><p>"And what makes you so sure."</p><p>"Because you're by my side and I will stop at nothing to keep it that way."</p><p>"What happened to me always being with you regardless of our physical separation?" Chloe teased.</p><p>"Hmph," Damian eyed her coyly. "Let me paraphrase then. Defeat is not an option. I will not allow even the end of the world to prevent my hand from reaching for yours."</p><p>Did he always have to say things like that? The cheesiest and sweetest things she had ever heard said to her—over and over again. It made her lose control of her inhibitions. It made her want to burst into a bout of tears and laughter all at once. She would have kissed him right there and then were it not for the fact that stealth was on their agenda.</p><p>"Or I, yours," she whispered against his neck.</p><hr/><p>Annabeth</p><p>Having decided to avoid the roads and the forest, Annabeth had guided her companions to the coastal paths. Percy offered her an appreciative smile. He seemed calmer with the sea beside him. Turning along the path, the horizon revealed the island of Salamis with its cypress trees and coastal towns.</p><p>"This is where it happened," Thalia muttered, once again surprising Annabeth with her depth of knowledge and keen observation.</p><p>"Here we are, an Athenian and a Spartan, walking this path," Annabeth added. "Poetic, isn't it?"</p><p>"I don't get it," Percy frowned.</p><p>"Beside us are the Straits of Salamis," Annabeth explained, "It's where the decisive battle against the Persians—the battle of Salamis took place."</p><p>"One of the first and last times Greece stood united," Thalia added. "By the powers of Sparta and Athens no less."</p><p>"King Leonidas of Sparta and General Themistocles of Athens," Annabeth continued. Percy was wearing an odd smile, eyes flicking between her and Thalia. As if he were shocked to see the two of them bond over history of all things. "Now those were leaders to be respected and remembered. A far cry from those who rule now."</p><p>"The <em>Kings </em>of Sparta are still good," Thalia glared. So much for bonding.</p><p>"Are they, though? Annabeth challenged. She had no strong opinions either way but her faith in humanity was at the moment, running low—the barest of trickles.</p><p>"They are." Thalia pressed. "They are…because like the great king, they chose their people over their pride. They asked for aid even though it went against their believes.</p><p>"Please stop arguing," Percy begged. "Honor their memory then. Be united."</p><p>"You're right," Annabeth sighed audibly. A common enemy had united the country once. It would do so again. It had to. "I know you're right. We'll get justice for Sparta."</p><p>"Sparta doesn't need their justice; it needs their ships." Thalia retorted.</p><p>"If we succeed," Annabeth said, ignoring the jibe. "It will be historic; the first time Greece has united in over a hundred years."</p><p>"Then succeed we will," Thalia said, tightening her grip on the reigns of her mount.</p><p>"Let us remind Athens of what happened when the city-states worked hand-in-hand instead,"</p><p>"Symbolic," Percy smiled. "A Spartan and an Athenian striving together to unify Greece."</p><hr/><p>Edited 4th May 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Yep, that is it. As I said this one is kinda lacking any substance. Apologies for that but I wanted to give my characters some extra time together before they parted ways.</strong>
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  <strong>The next two mini-arcs from the two split groups pushes the main narrative and Perlia respectively by quite a lot.</strong>
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  <strong>Do leave a comment if you enjoyed the chapter.</strong>
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  <strong>I'd really appreciate it.</strong>
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<a name="section0025"><h2>25. A Sliver of Hope</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A/N: Thanks for all the love on the last chapter.</p><p>We have crossed the halfway mark of the story so there's that. Only 20-22 chapters to go.</p>
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    <p>Thalia</p><p>Time passed as an endless cycle of riding, sparring, and resting. It had been just over two days since they had parted with Chloe and Damian which according to Annabeth meant that they were around a day's ride from Athens. This was to be their final pause in the journey, a short one so as to not push their steeds to exhaustion. The pace they had set was relentless, but what choice did they have. Her people were dying, and Percy reassured them that the horses could take it—relished it even, this freedom they had never known but had always sought.</p><p>With his trident, Percy had managed to fish up a grand total of two sea bass along the coast. Thalia, of course, teased him to no end. The teasing only stopped when her belly was filled with said bass, smoked to perfection by her and Annabeth both, neither willing to concede the station as they both argued their superiority at survival skills. That seemed to be the case more often as the days passed. Not the arguing, though there was plenty of it, but the two of them sharing moments alone. This was in fact Percy's doing. As usual, he volunteered to take first watch, disappearing into the nearby clump of trees. Annabeth and Thalia had long given up convincing him otherwise.</p><p>So, there they lay, in quiet contemplation, willing themselves to fade into dream so as to refuel themselves for what was to come. Or at least it would have been quiet, were it not for the heavy grunts and thuds as Percy sparred with his self-made phantoms. Inner demons, one could say. <em>One—</em>not Thalia. She had no right to judge him.</p><p>Thalia slackened the tension that ran through her, shutting her eyes from the light of the stars, attempting to bury herself deeper in the soft loam beneath her. Sleep—that was all she needed to do…all it took to be with Cyril again. Those nightmares that had somehow melted into rolling green fields filled with Spartan standards and soldiers as she bounded into his waiting arms. Ridiculous, perhaps…the only time she had bounded towards Cyril in Sparta was when they had their weapons trained on each other.</p><p><em>Somehow,</em> she scoffed. Perhaps a far more ridiculous notion. She knew the answer. It had been Percy, his words, his relentless and resplendent goodness. His intent gaze that saw through her more clearly than she ever could…</p><p>Thalia had no right to judge him, but surely, she had earned the right to worry about him. And worry was what she did. Percy was pushing himself to the brink and for what. That stupidly misguided notion she had tried smacking out of him for as long as she had known him. How could he not see his own worth when he had managed to unearth hers?</p><p>"We need to do something about him," Annabeth's voice a soft whisper. "He hasn't been sleeping, you know. Whenever I return from my watch and you've left for yours, I notice him slipping away to train."</p><p>Thalia did not know what to say to that. It explained the dark rings that had slowly formed around his eyes but why did he only leave when it was her watch. Was he afraid that she'd confront him for not resting? Or perhaps…</p><p><em>Perhaps what?</em> A part of her seemed to prod.</p><p>Thalia shook away the thought and turned to Annabeth who lay a foot away.</p><p>"It's not for a lack of trying and you know it," Thalia grumbled. "You know how damn stubborn he can be."</p><p>"Oh, I know…" Annabeth smiled lazily, stretching out her arms from beneath her head. "Only slightly less so than you. And that's why you're his only hope. You need to knock some sense into him."</p><p>"Right now?" Thalia proposed.</p><p>"Maybe later," Annabeth mused. "I would love to get in some sleep before the two of you begin your incessant arguing."</p><p>After a moment of deliberation that dragged with every sharp breath of the cold night air, Thalia turned to Annabeth again, wondering if the girl had fallen asleep.</p><p>"Annabeth," she whispered.</p><p>"Hmm," Annabeth responded, her voice clear enough to suggest that she too was having trouble sleeping.</p><p>"You too, huh." Said Thalia. "What's on your mind?"</p><p>"Athens…"</p><p>"What will we do when we arrive?" Thalia asked, trying to get a response that was more than a word long.</p><p>"First things first, I need to find Chloe's father, Khnurn" Annabeth answered—her tone a seemingly futile attempt at conveying a cold fury. It was her eyes that betrayed her, the sense of longing that fluttered within the storm. "He should have inside information on the council, and we'll need every advantage if we are to convince Athens to join our cause."</p><p>"He's a strategoi, isn't he?" Thalia asked.</p><p>Annabeth nodded, then turned away as if to hide the battle that brewed within her. "At least he was when I last left Athens…"</p><p>"What was he like?"</p><p>"You'll see soon enough." Annabeth said bitterly, "I'm sorry…It's a complicated relationship. But-" she sighed in some sort of self-defeat, "He's a good man. I think you'll like him. Chloe got that eternal patience from somewhere, you know."</p><p>"Anyone," Thalia's voice cracked. "Anyone who has it in their hearts to take in a young girl and raise her as their own is good in my books."</p><p>Annabeth turned back, this time lying on her side, head propped in her palm and stared at Thalia. Really <em>stared</em>. "Who told you-"</p><p>"Nobody," Thalia said quickly. "I hear it in your voice, and I see it in your eyes. The shared glances between you and Chloe. The time you had not brought up your father but flinched almost imperceptibly when Chloe did. The way you sort of drifted off when Percy and Damian talked about their mothers…" Perhaps Thalia had gone too far. The look Annabeth was giving her suggested so. But the look crumbled with a heavy sigh.</p><p>"I can hyper analyze you too, you know." Annabeth challenged, her heart clearly not in it. "But I'll spare you for today."</p><p>The sparing did not last a minute, let alone, a day.</p><p>"Who was it that took you in?" Annabeth's voice, soft.</p><p>"Cyril…a Spartan Warrior," Thalia answered. Not the entire truth but it was the title he deserved. It did not matter if he was long retired because of his many injuries, or even that Thalia suspected those injuries had been inflicted only because he had given up his fight. A fight he had only rediscovered when she had landed at his doorstep. That's what the evidence pointed to at least, for the records she had snuck her way into reading showed no signs of him being a Paidonomos before her Agoge. Everything he had done…for her. Thalia was glad she saw it now. She only wished she had not been so late to it.</p><p>"Is he who trained you?" Annabeth asked and Thalia nodded. "You're a great warrior you know. Perhaps even better than me."</p><p>Thalia was taken aback. That must have been borderline impossible for Annabeth to admit. In that way Thalia was sure they were alike. "If only it were true," she smiled weakly. "But I saw your discomfort, I know you were sparring with injured ribs. I know you still hide the pain now-"</p><p>"And you had been pursued by two varieties of demons relentlessly for weeks—across the entire continent almost, alone for a majority of the time. And yet you stood toe to toe with me in melee combat which is apparently your weaker attribute."</p><p>"Better in combat perhaps," Thalia considered her words, "But the mind is said to be a warrior's greatest weapon."</p><p>"It is," Annabeth said. "And yours is as sharp as any I've known."</p><p>"Yet still not as sharp as yours."</p><p>"Careful now," Annabeth warned, her eyes rippling with amusement as her lips crinkled into a smile. She knew as Thalia did that this had somehow become a competition of its own. Which of them would be the first to convince the other of their magnificence? "You don't want to fan the flame that is my ego," Annabeth continued with a sideways grin.</p><p>Thalia snorted. "My ego is not one to meddle with either."</p><p>"Oh, I hadn't noticed." Annabeth said dryly. A moment of silence passed, a peaceful one. "How has it come to this? How did our country fall into such ruin?"</p><p>"Generations of mistakes," Thalia considered sadly. "And the pesky Persians, of course. But there is still hope for us yet. I believe that there is still good in the people of this once great nation."</p><p>"How can you still believe that?" Annabeth asked. "After everything you have just seen in Megara."</p><p>"I told you, didn't I? I trust that the Kings of Sparta have not been corrupted by the vices of this world and even if they have, I trust that there is someone waiting in the shadows to right their wrongs. An Alexo of its own if you will. And should the day come that Sparta falls…"</p><p><em>Had it?</em> A voice squeaked within her.</p><p>"Or Athens," Thalia continued, trying to distract herself from her thoughts. "Or any other great city or even all of them—even then I will not give in. Not a chance. Not when there are people like Percy and Chloe whose bottomless compassion sometimes scares me or you and Damian whose unwavering spirit inspires me. The unyielding protectors and relentless warriors of this world. As long as there are people like them standing between this country and its collapse, I will never lose hope."</p><p>Thalia had been looking up at the stars as she monologued, as if she could project her hope upward and onward so as to blanket herself and her companions from the darkness that was to come. Yet deep down…deep down her words were an uncertain, tentative grasp at the thinnest of threads.</p><p>Thalia turned back to Annabeth, curious as to why only silence had greeted her declaration. Annabeth was drifting in a sea of her own thoughts, her hands clasped on her chest as she too stared at the stars. Thalia's movement was enough to garner her attention. Annabeth turned to her with a smile that was almost…<em>vulnerable </em>in its nature. A word that did not seem possible to be attributed to her.</p><p>"You're a lot sappier that you let on, you know?" Annabeth wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. "I suspect a boy's influence. A certain son of the sea god perhaps?" Annabeth wriggled her brows mischievously. She was devious—absolutely so. Thalia punched her in the shoulder.</p><p>The night was filled abruptly by Percy's yelling. He was screaming their names, thundering towards them, trident in hand. "They're here," he gasped to a skidding halt.</p><p><em>Not again</em>. The wave of fear that accompanied those cursed creatures slammed into her as she leapt to her feet.</p><p>Something about it was…unfamiliar—the fear that is. Gone was the terror that she alone had caused Cyril's death, leaving only the gaping, numbing sensation that had festered within her for all her life. The fear that she would be alone forevermore. That eventually, all things faded. Her new friends included…</p><p>The trees rustled and three demons emerged from where Percy had. The creatures loomed over them. In the moonlight, their figures cast shadows across the field, shrouding them in a darkness that was filled with the beat of their leathery wings and the glow of those god forsaken eyes. Unnatural, in every way. Twisted and demented. They charged without a second's hesitation, each to one demon. This would be easy. At least it should have been…</p><p>Thalia fired an arrow straight through the creature's throat, sending it careening down in a wild mess of leather and blood. But when she whirled to her companions-</p><p>Annabeth—down on her knees, frozen before the other demon and completely at its mercy.</p><hr/><p>Annabeth</p><p>She was falling through an endless abyss. Why or how or when…she did not know. Her knees struck against rock, sending a rattling sort of pain through her being that screwed her eyes shut. She dug her fingers into the dirt as she caught her breath—nostrils filling with a pungent scent so overpowering that it clouded her mind. Was this where she had been? She could have sworn she remembered a cool salty breeze.</p><p>Annabeth peeled open her eyes, still wincing through the pain. A clearing within a forest. That seemed to be right. But that scent…</p><p>Her vision regained its focus, eyes trailing to the source of the smell.</p><p>
  <em>No—no…no…no</em>
</p><p>This had to be a nightmare. It had to be.</p><p><em>But this was real, </em>said a voice—her own. <em>This happened.</em></p><p>Before her lay Theron, his chest an aching cavity of blood and guts, his heart in the hands of those damned creatures that had haunted her for so long now. Still bent over him, the anthropophagus feasting on the organ.</p><p>Annabeth turned away, her insides lurching dangerously towards her throat, and just as she thought she were about to collapse…</p><p>She fell. <em>Oh, the irony of it all</em>. And so, she spun and tumbled through the void again. It felt like hours before she landed again. And then the same vision and the subsequent fall. Over and over, till she found herself numb to the terror and desolation that had been wrought upon her soul. If only she knew the half of it. If only she had not tested the resolve of the abyss.</p><p>The next time she landed…</p><p>It was not Theron who lay there, not his blood splotched fingers that twitched with the last tremors of life, not his eyes whose light waned. No…</p><p>It was her father first…then Chloe, then Damian. One after the other. Everyone she had ever loved. She screamed—screamed till her lungs bled but still no sound was heard, and still she fell. This was it. What her life had amounted to. <em>Nothing. </em>Absolutely nothing-</p><p>The same rattling pain speared through her again. Annabeth did not open her eyes. She hadn't the last few times. What was the point? Then suddenly, warmth enveloped her arms as she was pulled to her feet. Voices muffled by the ringing in her head. Taking a deep, ragged breath, Annabeth risked a peek. Electric-blue orbs boring into her soul.</p><p>"What happened?" Thalia's nostrils flared.</p><p>"I…" Annabeth swooned forward, feeling a sudden weakness, as something held her in place. She tried to speak again but her throat burned and seconds later, she was keeled over on the ground, having emptied her guts. The taste left behind, abysmal. Yet it was that taste that grounded her back to reality.</p><p>Thalia was crouched next to her, holding back her hair, eyes still glowing. Behind her, Percy rubbing soothing circles on her back.</p><p>"Answer the question," Thalia insisted. "I know you are capable of taking these creatures on. So, I ask you again. What happened?"</p><p>"I…I let it get to me," Annabeth whimpered. Gods, she had never felt more pathetic.</p><p>"On <em>purpose</em>?" Thalia snarled. "What in Hades's name made you think that was a sound idea?"</p><p>Annabeth and Percy exchanged a quick glance before she spoke. "I only meant to let it in for a second. I thought that maybe I'd learn something that will help us gain an advantage. You would have done the same if you had the foresight." Annabeth challenged, sick of having Thalia's aggression projected on her.</p><p>Thalia narrowed her eyes, then turned her glare to Percy. "You're being awfully quiet. Help me out here. Is there something I'm missing? Am I the only one here with some semblance of sense?"</p><p>"She does have a point," Percy offered meekly. "She was only trying to help." Annabeth sensed the split of guilt and gratitude that swirled within him.</p><p>Thalia shook her head and let out a defeated sigh. "The two of you can be insufferable, you know that."</p><p>Annabeth could have said the same, but she held back her tongue.</p><p>"If it weren't for Percy," Thalia stood, steeping aside to reveal the demon that had ensnared her. Buried in its torso was Percy's trident. "You'd be dead."</p><p>"Thanks for the save," She shone Percy an appreciative smile that he returned.</p><p>"No problem, you'd have done the same for me."</p><p>Annabeth rose to her feet rather shakily and approached the dead creature. She examined its every facet and committed it to memory. She would attain more knowledge on these creatures, not only for Percy but for herself. If she could learn more about them, she might discover what was actually at play. And that knowledge could be their salvation.</p><hr/><p>Fortunately enough, the rest of the journey went off without a hitch. They rode from dawn to dusk at a furious pace. Athens emerged into view in all its glory and just the sight of it made something within Annabeth stir. Staring at the great walls and the Acropolis that rose high above them in the center of the city filled her with a bitter twang of longing and loss. This was perhaps no longer her home, but it was one she dared not replace or worse, forget.</p><p>The last refuge of the life that could have been, the last refuge for her memories of her father. The first, last and only place that she had shared with him. And even then, after her whole life had walked out on her and never returned, still this place had offered her a second chance. A second family. So, forgive her for the tears that streamed down her cheeks as she rode to her city. It was not often one was swarmed with a deluge of memories like this. So intensely real like the visions in her abyss. Was she still trapped? Was this just another elaborate game of that cruel darkness?</p><p>Annabeth buried the thought, shoving it so deep it would never again see the light of day. She had escaped; she was for the most part, unharmed; and she was returning home, even if only temporarily.</p><p><em>Gods</em>, leaving the first time had been hard enough. To have to do it again…</p><p>Infinitely cruel. But were there better words to describe this life? A question worth pondering if she had the time. But they had arrived at the gates. Golden, gleaming monoliths restrained by metal chains. A great, beckoning gateway. The only thing between them and the city a measly number of guards.</p><p>They were let in without much fuss, the only instruction to leave their horses in the recently built stables that looked almost like it had been plastered together in a day. Not of Athens's usual architectural standards if she was being kind. Shambolic, if Annabeth was being honest. But as she stepped through the gates, sun dipping beneath the walls, she couldn't stop the imagery that came to mind.</p><p><em>The gates of hell.</em> Not a nice comparison when thinking of one's home, but she couldn't help that creeping feeling that something was entirely amiss. Not just with Athens but the wider world. Yet it did not slow her march, for she'd welcome any hell over the abyss she had escaped. That she was certain of…</p><p>The sight that greeted her made the creeping feeling crawl back from whence it came. Perhaps there was still hope for Athens. They had honored this promise at least. She should have realised it first when the gates were open and second when she saw the state of the stables. Athens had always been <em>crowded,</em> but this…</p><p>It was as if the entire world had found its way here. Every inch of the city teemed with life. The sight so irreconcilable with that of Megara, Annabeth had to consciously remind herself to not leave her jaw hanging. The people may have been filthy, may have even been malnourished or on the brink of exhaustion but every single one of them had this glint in their eyes that suggested <em>hope.</em> There were even those that smiled with a gleeful joy that seemed to spread to and encapsulate her.</p><p>Scattered among the refugees, judging by their finer clothes, were citizens of Athens who danced among the streets, providing assistance and supplies. This was what the future held if they succeeded. A new era of peace. The perfect example of what could be accomplished with compassion and the willingness to compromise.</p><p>"They've built tents for the refugees," Thalia said. "Impressive."</p><p>And she was right, it truly was. Even from here Annabeth could see it all. The snaking path that led up towards the Acropolis lined entirely with blue fabric. The colors of the city spiraling out from its center. Atop it, the crown jewel of this ancient city, a beacon that stood high above all. The Athena Parthenos, and behind it the Parthenon. <em>Gods</em>, she missed the days where all she did was sit on the edge of the Acropolis, dangling her tiny feet over the city as she watched it move beneath her. This city that thrummed with life and bustled with activity. Those had been simpler times<em>. Not for Chloe though</em>, she mused to herself, lips curling as she remembered all the times Chloe had to make the trek up to the Acropolis just to drag her back for dinner.</p><p>Annabeth's advance through the city was purposeful even if her heavy footsteps suggested reluctance. The lingering nervousness that ebbed within her, one of reuniting with a loved one. If only Chloe was here now. Everything would be so much easier. It always was with her.</p><p>Speaking of Chloe, where had Percy and Thalia disappeared off to now? They had been lagging behind for some time now, still drinking in the sights, still mesmerized by the city—<em>her </em>city. Annabeth turned and scoured the sea of people. <em>There, </em>the both of them, seemingly frozen at the side of the path. Thalia it seemed, could not take her eyes of the Athena Parthenos. That at least Annabeth could understand. But there was something other than awe to her look. A question perhaps. An odd thing to ask of a statue. Annabeth was not going to lie. Her curiosity was piqued. But now was not the time to dilly-dally.</p><p>Upon closer inspection, she noticed Thalia clutching something within her palms. That necklace she always wore. Annabeth had noticed how she fiddled with it when deep in thought. Either twirling it between her fingers or incessantly brushing her thumb across the large blue jewel at its center. A remarkably beautiful piece of jewelry. Annabeth would have to ask her about it one day. She wondered for a moment if it had been a gift from Percy, only then realizing how ridiculous the thought was seeing that the two had only met each other while on the run. Cyril, then. That explained the heaviness Thalia seemingly carried with it.</p><p>Percy noticing her exasperated look, raised a hand in supplication.</p><p><em>Give her a second, </em>he said with his eyes. A gentle, tentative brush of their fingers later and finally, Thalia peeled her eyes from the statue, offering him a faint flicker of a smile—one that conveyed an amalgamation of so many emotions, Annabeth did not know where to start. Gratitude, guilt, self-doubt. Annabeth looked away then, feeling like she was intruding on something private. She continued her march, the other two in tow.</p><p>Minutes later, they arrived. Annabeth raised her hand to knock but then froze. Her heart pounding within her ribcage. She had been so certain of how she'd confront Khnurn. How she'd interrogate him for Athens's failures. But then she remembered Chloe's words—to give him a chance to explain. And something else entirely. A fear buried so deep it surprised her too when unearthed. Had she done enough…been enough to make him proud. To make him not regret his decision of taking her in. What would he say to her? What would she say to him? Were words enough?</p><p>Annabeth took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose as she once again wished for Chloe's presence.</p><p>"You good?" Thalia was beside her now, hand on her shoulder.</p><p>Annabeth nodded, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. One door…that was all that separated her from Khnurn and the complex interwoven web of emotions that existed between them. And past those doors were other more pleasant things. Memories she prayed she'd never forget. The days filled with laughter and the nights filled with tears. All those precious moments with Chloe by her side and Khnurn at her back.</p><p>Just as a precaution, Annabeth drew another deep breath. Again, she lifted her hand, this time finding the conviction to rap them against the door thrice. They reverberated through her fingers and to her heart. Moments later, the sound of metal rasping against wood rumbled through the door before it creaked open.</p><p>And then there he was, his smooth dark skin gleaming, eyeglasses perched on the tip of his nose, threatening to fall at the slightest of movements. Warm eyes that seemed to always dance with curiosity. He was exactly as she remembered. And before he could even realise what was happening, she threw herself into him and buried her head against his chest, tears spilling down her cheeks. He held her firmly and stroked her hair.</p><p>"Annabeth!" he exclaimed. "Oh, my girl—you've grown so tall. I feared the worst when your carriage never returned…thank the gods your letter arrived when it did. I... don't know what I would have done." And then he was crying too, his tears wetting her shoulder. They held each other for a long moment, his grip as strong as a bear. Then he stiffened and pulled away. A frantic, darting look over her shoulder. He staggered backwards looking horrified, one hand bracing himself on the door and croaked, "What happened to her?"</p><p>"Nothing!" Annabeth said quickly, her hands swinging in wild panicked motions. "She's fine."</p><p>Khnurn's hand dropped to his side as his shoulders relaxed. A heartbeat later, and she was pulled into another hug. <em>Gods, </em>he smelled of old parchment. He always did. A side-effect of all those hours with his nose buried in ancient texts. Moments later, seemingly noticing Thalia and Percy's presence, he released her and cleared his throat.</p><p>"Apologies for my lack of hospitality." He smiled. "Annabeth, care to introduce your friends?" She did exactly so. His eyes widened at their parentage. As if after all these years of heralding groundbreaking discoveries, this was what shocked him the most. "Please, do come in. You must be exhausted and not to mention, ravenous. Put aside your things—dinner will be served shortly."</p><p>Percy's stomach growled as he broke into a wide lopsided grin.</p><p>"Is there anything else you think about?" Thalia asked with narrowed eyes.</p><p>Percy met her pointed look and argued, "I think about you too…I <em>mean</em>, I think about whether you're okay…" he stumbled over his words in a flustered mess. "Occasionally," he stammered for good measure. Moments later, the two demigods were avoiding each other's gazes, cheeks flushed red. Khnurn nudged Annabeth with his elbow to gain her attention and raised his brows in question, an amused smile tugging at his lips.</p><p>"Don't ask," she said simply.</p><p>"Is this normal?"</p><p>"Normal for them."</p><p>"Get them seated. I'll just prepare some extra portions." he guided her sight to the dining table. Warmth flickered in her chest now that she took in the sight. The house was exactly as she remembered, a cluttered and crowded mess, one she adored. The aging stump of wood they'd shared their meals on. The narrow stairs that led to their rooms and Khnurn's workshop. The shelves upon shelves of books and scrolls and odd trinkets lining the walls. The small fireplace that even now crackled with a low flame. Before it, the kline* they had burnt so many nights on with books in their hands. Annabeth had been awoken there by Khnurn many a time, a book in her lap as he chided her to get proper rest. It had been everything and more. Perhaps, it still was.</p><hr/><p>"How is Chloe doing?" Khnurn asked as he settled into his seat.</p><p>"Err…" Annabeth stuttered, not sure how to break the news. "She's good. Better than good really. She's found happiness."</p><p>"Oh," he's smile warm, if a little curious. "How so?"</p><p>"She's married."</p><p>"She is?" he asked incredulously, voice now taking on a dangerous tone and skewering the warmth from before. "Who is it? Who dares marry my daughter without my blessing?" <em>Oh boy,</em> Annabeth thought. So much for that eternal patience. Khnurn was getting well and truly worked up now, clenching and unclenching his fist as he stared at her for answers.</p><p>Annabeth stared back, unyielding. "That's one of the reasons I'm here. To ask for your blessing on their behalf. And besides, even if you dared refuse," Annabeth narrowed her eyes in challenge. "Which of course, you wouldn't. All that matters is her happiness. And with him she truly is."</p><p>"Who is he?" Khnurn reiterated the question, this time having calmed a little.</p><p>"You'd love him like your own son," Annabeth smiled. "Trust me. He's my best friend too and Chloe and I would not have arrived in Hemitheopolis were it not for him."</p><p>"He was there that day?" Khnurn frowned, more so at the memory of that near loss, she suspected. Annabeth nodded. "Is he a good man?"</p><p>"The best." Annabeth affirmed.</p><p>"I trust her judgement and I trust yours. Tell her and—"</p><p>"Damian." Annabeth said. "His name is Damian."</p><p>"Damian?" his brows rose as he broke into a knowing smile. "Why didn't you say so? She's always mentioning him in her letters. I had always suspected there was more going on there then she let on. I've never seen her ramble like she does when he's the topic."</p><p>"It's worse in person," Annabeth grinned. "But then again, it goes both ways. They really are absolutely smitten."</p><p>"If that's the case," Khnurn scratched at his chin, as if still unsure of his words. "Tell her and Damian that I bless their marriage and wish upon them only happiness and love. And also inform him that if he ever hurts her, it will be my wrath he faces."</p><p>"And mine," Annabeth shot him a conspiratorial grin.</p><p>"Now that that's settled," He said. "What else brings you home. Not my cooking, I think."</p><p>Breaking the marriage to him had been difficult enough. What she'd have to tell him now…</p><p>A classic case of good news or bad news first. She had chosen good and even that had caused some tension. Stifling her nerves, Annabeth sped through the recent evets. She told him of her first quest with Damian and their discovery. That obviously garnered a reaction of a deserving magnitude. But Annabeth lectured Khnurn on the values of not interrupting a story and he huffed, begrudgingly amused at the reversal of his own teachings. Then she continued the tale and chronicled their current quest, expressly avoiding her last encounter with those demons. That would do nothing but make him worry. And by the time she was done, he was already a nervous wreck.</p><p>"This is not what I wanted for the two of you." He brushed his thumb against the back of her hand. His hands were coarse from all that years of sifting through papyrus. "How can I live with myself when here I am, safe in a walled city while my daughter is out there…about to fight an army of monsters."</p><p>"It comes with the territory," said Annabeth. "There's no stopping it. Damian will be at her side and at the very least, the entire Theban army."</p><p>"I know," he said. "But I can't help but worry."</p><p>"Me too."</p><p>"And your task, though less dangerous, is immensely difficult." Khnurn sighed into cupped hands, the breath fogging up his eyeglasses. "However, it is achievable if handled with the greatest of care. But now is not the time to discuss such dreary matters. I can see how exhausted the three of you are."</p><p>"We don't have the time to waste," Annabeth argued.</p><p>"I refuse to listen to any of it. Until the three of you have rested the night, I will not give you the information you need or aid you in your plan. You and Thalia can take Chloe's and your old room. Percy can have mine."</p><p>"Khnurn, sir." Percy started. "I cannot thank you enough, but I also cannot accept this kindness."</p><p>"I insist," Khnurn said it with an authority that brooked no arguments.</p><p>"You'd better listen to him," Annabeth said sweetly. "He's even more stubborn than you are."</p><p>"Fine," Percy muttered under his breath. "Thank you for everything."</p><hr/><p>Percy</p><p>Percy tossed and turned in bed, having awoken for the umpteenth time. Had it been minutes or hours since he last woke? Every time he slipped into sleep, the same damned nightmare. The window and the sliver of hope that came with it—that buried itself between his ribs and made breathing difficult if not painful.</p><p>Three quick knocks on his door, pulled him out of his ruminations. <em>Annabeth</em>. <em>What was she doing awake at this ungodly hour and what was she doing here?</em></p><p>"Come in," he said, pushing himself up so that he was seated on the edge of the bed instead.</p><p>The door creaked upon slowly, revealing Annabeth using her shoulder to push it open, a huge tome in her hand. She waddled over, struggling with its weight, before dropping it at the foot of his bed.</p><p>"What's up?" Percy asked.</p><p>"I couldn't sleep." Annabeth said, as she landed next to him.</p><p>"Nightmares?" he suggested. She nodded, running her hands through her hair. "I have them too. Every damned day."</p><p>"Is that why you're always training instead of sleeping?"</p><p>"Yup," It was only one of the reasons, but she didn't need to know that.</p><p>"Anyways," Annabeth dragged the word, breaking the awkward silence that followed his not-quite answer. "I went to the library."</p><p>"Of course, you did."</p><p>"Your sarcasm isn't helping, you know?" Percy raised his hands in humble apology. "I found this book there," she gestured to it with a wild kind of excitement.</p><p>"What is it?"</p><p>"An ancient bestiary. Older than any found in Hemitheopolis. It's information on monsters is quite outdated compared to ours, but there are mention of creatures so old and so rare, that it has never been recorded in our bestiaries."</p><p>"You found them," Percy swallowed. "Those demons?"</p><p>"I can't be sure," Annabeth reached for the tome and flipped it open which sent a cloud of dust straight into their nostrils. A fit of coughs later and Annabeth was back to flipping pages. "But hear this…<em>Their wings a leathery black, their eyes yellow as sulfur. Brace thyselves, for they bring forth the realms of nightmare</em>."</p><p>"It does sound a lot like those creatures." Percy offered.</p><p>"There's nothing much about them on here but that and a name—<em>melas oneiroi."</em></p><p>"Black dream," Percy translated the ancient Latin.</p><p>"Exactly," Annabeth nodded enthusiastically, those remarkable grey eyes dancing with light. "If this text is to be believed. The creatures aren't demons of fear but demons of nightmare."</p><p>"Does that make a difference?" he puzzled.</p><p>"It does. This line here '<em>bring forth the realms of nightmare'</em> suggest that they not only manipulate your fear but rather are some sort of manifestation of our nightmares. As if they could shape the very fabric of reality."</p><p>"Like making you see things that aren't happening!" Percy exclaimed in realization. His heart stopped then started again. This would mean his sneaking suspicion could be true. That that sliver of hope was there not to harm but comfort him. Spur him on even to what it is it had whispered to him for weeks now. His mother may very well be alive.</p><p>"That's possible…of course," Annabeth continued. "Though, the author of this bestiary could have just been speaking metaphorically."</p><p><em>No.</em> Percy knew that Annabeth was just doing what she did—analyzing every possibility. But he wanted to scream at her to stop. Not now. Not after he had only just allowed that sliver to expand within him. The hope he had clung on to but resisted to explore. His mother had to be alive. He was sure of it now. Every single time he tried recalling that day, something about the memory had been <em>fuzzy</em>. As if there had been moments that didn't quite happen as he remembered. Most of this fuzz was found during that moment. The one in his nightmare. The window.</p><p>After all this was over, he would sail to Kastelli immediately and he would find his mother waiting there for him. She would be unharmed, taking care of Emily and the other children. Perhaps, she had rebuilt Kastelli with what was left of its population. All this had to be true. It had to be…</p><p>But a part of him, the part that had frozen on the hill, the one that seemed to always let him down when others needed him, spoke, It's voice taunting. <em>Even if what you saw was not exactly as it happened, who's to say she made it out of the house alive? She was trapped in it with a number of those creatures. That's an indisputable fact. And you left her alone, the rest of the village having fled or gone mad. Another indisputable fact. Not the best odds of survival, wouldn't you say?</em></p><p>Percy smothered that voice. No, hope was all he had now. All he was.</p><p>"Percy?" Annabeth asked, voice laced with concern. "You zoned out."</p><p>"Sorry," said Percy, scrubbing at his face. "I'm good. I was just thinking of my village, of all the people who had seemed to lose their minds. At least now I know what happened to them. Thank you, Annabeth. It means the world that you did this for me. But never, and I cannot stress this enough, <em>never</em> put yourself in danger for me again."</p><p>"I can't promise that…" whispered Annabeth, almost pityingly. "We're demigods for god's sake. You've seen how dangerous our lives are."</p><p>"I know that but…" Percy buried his head in his hands. He wanted to rip his hair out. Why him? Why did everyone he care about always find themselves in danger? He met her eyes again. "But…dammit Annabeth, I can't watch those I love hurt again. I've lost everyone, and I know I sound selfish. I haven't lost nearly as much as the rest of you, but I can't lose someone I care about again. I just can't." Percy choked back the sob that had risen to his throat. Before he knew it, Annabeth had pulled him in close and held him in her arms.</p><p>She pulled away for just a moment and looked him in the eyes—<em>really </em>looked. A look that bore deep into his soul. "I can promise you this. We never leave one of our own behind." Annabeth seemed to tremble at those words. The story she had told him coming to mind. Theron, Maya's son. He had been left behind and Annabeth knew it.</p><p>"Never again will I repeat that mistake," Annabeth swore. "So, if we go, we go together. There is a certain comfort to it, no?"</p><p><em>No.</em> He did not think for one moment that it would be better that if he died, others would die with him. If death were on the cards, he would be the one to receive it. Him and him alone. But Annabeth continued to hold him until he gathered himself and after, they found themselves talking throughout the night.</p><p>Annabeth started first, speaking of the abyss she had found herself in. She explained how it was not even the first time in recent memory that she had been under a creature's spell. Then Percy went next, describing to her what the attack on his village had been like, and the nightmares that came after. After the horrors, came the light. Back and forth, they exchanged some of their fondest memories of home and family. And the way Annabeth spoke so honestly of her past, her memories of Chloe and Damian and all the adventures and misadventures they had gotten up to, made Percy consider for just a moment to tell her everything. To tell her he believed his mother may still be alive. But he knew now was not the time. There were larger things at stake and his mother would have wanted him to see it through.</p><p>As they drifted through and reminisced on the good times, the more it seemed that their nightmares were nothing but lingering ghosts of their pasts. Ghosts that had no power over them, lest they allowed them the privilege…</p><p>And as Percy told Annabeth that the first thing Thalia had ever done when they had met was to scowl at him, he felt a soft rumbling against his side. Annabeth had fallen asleep. Percy moved aside, carefully lifting her legs and positioning her on the bed before throwing a blanket over her. He moved to the couch, and as he lay in the darkness, one that seemed to beckon to him, he let it consume him, for this time—this time, Percy was certain the ghosts would not come.</p><hr/><p>Edited 3rd May 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>I don't know about you guys, but I think this is one of my best written chapters yet. Other than all the Perlia centric ones at least.</strong>
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  <strong>Hope you loved Annabeth forming closer bonds with our two heroes.</strong>
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  <strong>Do leave a comment if you enjoyed the chapter.</strong>
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  <strong>I'd really appreciate it.</strong>
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<a name="section0026"><h2>26. To Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Damian</p><p>It had been some of the best days of Damian's life, those two days on the road. Perhaps the thought made him a terrible person. The world was engulfed in strife, yet here he was smiling. But how could he not. His union with Chloe was everything he had ever hoped, ever dreamed. That yearning of his heart finally answered but never satiated. For it would never be enough. Every delicate motion of her a thundering sort of presence. The slow curl of her lips. The precious gleam of her eyes. The ever-steady comfort of it all.</p><p>Five years of it and still the effect she had on him had not waned. Would it be the same a lifetime later? He hoped so. A lifetime…</p><p>A word that should be inconceivable to a demigod. A dangerous line of thought. The lack of caution it brewed had led to many a downfall. But five years with her was not enough. Only eternity, he could accept. So, a lifetime was what he had settled on.</p><p>A lifetime of feeling as if his heart would burst with every soft smile shot his way. And so there he sat, cross-legged in the dappled sunlight, her head on his lap. Her breaths a soft pitter-patter against his arm. They had stopped atop a hill before the final push. It was far enough from the valley of monsters and high enough that it provided them a view of any approaching threats.</p><p>That had been difficult. Trying to focus on anything other than her. And as if drawn forth by his thoughts, Chloe stirred, eyes fluttering open, precious gleam and all, as she mumbled her words. "Mmm…how long has it been?"</p><p>"Three hours, give or take." Damian smiled, lifting her fingers in his and pressing a kiss to them, the ring he had made glinting in the sun. "I couldn't bear to wake you. You seemed so peaceful."</p><p>"You can't keep babying me you know," Chloe said, gently pulling her hand away. "I can take care of myself. I always have. I've seen how you fought the last couple of days. You've been distracted with being too worried about my safety." Her tone was not unkind, but the words still pierced. Was it so wrong that he wanted to be the one that cared for her?</p><p>As if reading his thoughts, she answered the question. "It isn't. But the line has to be drawn when you're putting yourself in danger. You've been leaving your flanks wide open."</p><p>And they had been, of course. But could you blame him? Chloe would never get hurt on his watch—<em>never</em>. Damian reached for her hands again, but this time cupping them within his. "I know you can take care of yourself. But that doesn't stop my heart from exploding into a wild flurry every damn time I see you in battle."</p><p>"My heart races too you know," Chloe said, nuzzling up to him. "But you don't see me babying you."</p><p>"I'd like to see you try," he grinned.</p><p>Chloe's lips curled in a way too familiar to that of Annabeth's as she countered. "Do I need to remind you the number of times you wound up in the infirmary and under my care?"</p><p>"Fair enough," he huffed. "You didn't have to shatter my ego like that."</p><p>She pushed herself up, supporting herself with her palms as she leaned into him for a kiss. "Better?"</p><p>He murmured his agreement against her lips just as they pulled apart. A moment of silence then a question. "Will it ever stop?" he asked as he played with her golden-brown locks.</p><p>"What?" Chloe asked, flicking her eyes up at him so gently it made his insides melt. Gods he was a lost cause.</p><p>"This paralyzing fear of losing the people I love. Of losing myself along with it."</p><p>Chloe, once again the bastion of love, compassion and all the warm fuzzy things this world had to offer, pressed a palm to his chest. "I better hope not. What else would you brood about?" He gave her his best pout. She hit his chest playfully and said, "It won't, for to love is to embrace the fear, to live with it."</p><p>"How do you do it," Damian shook his head, placing his palm over hers and holding the warmth of her close. "How do you love so effortlessly?"</p><p>"It's never easy," Chloe seemed to choose her words in a tentative sort of advance. "But it's what makes life worth living."</p><p>Damian pulled her in closer, leaning down as he sank into her lips. A kiss so light yet intense. A kiss that said, <em>you make it worth living</em>. And with that thought he sank deeper still, engulfed within the sweetness of her lips—the safety.</p><p>"Swear you'll never leave me." He begged as they parted for breath.</p><p>Chloe's smile a wild, flustered little thing. "I'm pretty sure that was inclusive in our marriage vows. But I'll say it as many times as you need. I, Chloe Vitalis, will never leave you."</p><p>"And I," Damian breathed. "Will never leave you."</p><hr/><p>They rode with the sun at their backs. Their sweat causing their leathers to cling uncomfortably against their skin. The city-state of Thebes loomed ever closer. A spire of crude rock and cracked marble that rose against the horizon. A beacon, nothing short of an architectural masterpiece. Magnificence in the form of an insurmountable fortress.</p><p>Annabeth would have loved to be here. She was the only one who could truly appreciate such a beastly thing. Even now, from this distance, he could make out blurred shapes that signaled the city's sentries. Lined so as to guard the steep spiraling passageway that snaked around and into the acropolis.</p><p>Not only a city steeped in the mountains but one steeped in legend as well. Damian remembered the stories well. The city was said to have been built by Cadmus, a grandson of Poseidon and who was, some would suggest funnily enough, the grandfather of Dionysius himself. So notable were his deeds that he was deemed the first hero. And so, ensued the first age of heroes.</p><p>The story of the first King of Thebes goes as most stories do. A quest that found him off wandering through the lands with his companions. Like most quests, a tragedy befell the group. His companions found torn limb from limb. The fault some would argue—perhaps Cadmus himself—was his own. But behind every monstrous act, for the lack of a better term, is a monster. The proverbial monster in this sense does not always have to take the form of beast. It did, however, in this story. A water spring's guardian dragon. You see, Cadmus had sent forth his men in search of water. And so, with the heavy burden of his guilt, he drove his blade down into the creature's heart. It was from those dragon's teeth that the people of Thebes were born. Spartoi-they were called. The founding people of Thebes that till this day ruled as nobility.</p><p>"I wonder what Percy would say if he knew Thebes was founded by a descendent of Poseidon." Damian said.</p><p>"Probably nothing much," Chloe smiled. "From what I've seen, he's far too humble to gain pleasure from such a thing. Besides, he'd probably be so engrossed in some argument with Thalia that neither of them would hear a word you'd say…" her voice drifted off as she turned her sights to the ground. When finally, she met his gaze, her features were wracked with such guilt.</p><p>"It's our fault, isn't it? Percy and Thalia are out there and in danger because of us."</p><p>"We tried-" Damian started.</p><p>"Did we? What good is trying when you give in before victory. Imagine if that had been Annabeth and I." She held his attention then, eyes glimmering with the formation of tears, fists trembling in restrained defiance.</p><p>She was right wasn't she. Even then, little thirteen-year-old him would have thrown a tantrum that would have led into a riot before he let his father send Annabeth and Chloe out into the world unprepared. Not that he had any say in the matter. Had he lost his way somehow? Was this what it meant to lead? To lose a part of one's self for the good of his people. If his father was any indication, it seemed a certainty.</p><p>"At least we knew what we were getting into," Chloe continued, waving her hands in exasperation. "Percy and Thalia had no choice but to flee to Hemitheopolis. They have no homes to return too. No family…nothing at all but each other."</p><p>"You underestimate them," Damian insisted. "Thalia was destined for battle from birth. Her faith, though changed, is somehow entirely the same. The only difference is that there will be monsters on the end of her spear rather than men. And Percy is-"</p><p>"Percy is, what?" Chloe challenged. "Were you going to say strong? So, what if he is? Does that make what we did right?"</p><p>"No," Damian sighed heavily. "Never. You know, as I know, what we did was unforgiveable. But the alternative would not have been entirely right either. No matter what decisions we make there will always be blood on our hands. Such are the times, and such are our lives."</p><p>Chloe went silent, eyes fixed on her fingers as she clenched her reigns. His words had left behind a dizzying numbness in their wake. Perhaps he had changed for the worse—<em>idiot</em>. He of all people should have known what those words meant. What Chloe would take from them. The guilt she carried with every patient lost.</p><p>"Chloe," Damian said. "I didn't mean it like that."</p><p>"I know," she glanced at him momentarily. The smile she wore one that would have fooled the world, but not him. A fool, he may have been, but he knew that look. That polite smile of hers that would rather take on the pain of the world than share any of her own.</p><p>"Talk to me," he pleaded.</p><p>The returning silence was answer enough…<em>not now.</em> Patience—that he could give her. That he could always give her.</p><p>They rode on in silence for a time, Damian finding himself riding closer to her than before. He needed Chloe to know that he was there for her.</p><p>"The first king. Wasn't his name Cadmus?" Chloe's voice breaking the silence. She seemed to squirm in her saddle as she said it. Damian had somehow missed the connection. The bastard that bore his name was a mockery to the mythic hero. "And wasn't he also a descendant of Inachos like Kar, Megara's first king."</p><p>At least she was speaking again. It was dangerous to leave her to her own ruminations. Like him, she dwelled far too deep into the darkness. It's what made them understand each other so well. There were few better at shielding the darkness than those that have lived within it.</p><p>"I believe so," said Damian in an attempt to keep the conversation alive. "The old stories never quite made sense to me. So many kings and heroes born of the gods, questing and adventuring hand-in-hand. The gods used to actively shape this world—if the stories were to be believed, that is. What changed? Why have they forsaken us?"</p><p>"It's eight-hundred years too late for this conversation. The heroes died after that, didn't they? And their stories with them."</p><p>"But we know the gods exist. We wouldn't be standing here if they didn't. Something happened, I just want to know what or why."</p><p>"One day, if we meet them—our dear parents or in your case grandparents…" Chloe said. "Why don't we ask them?"</p><p>The thought seemed absurd. Meeting the gods; his grandparents; Chloe's mother. What would they be like? Hell, would they even care. That's as far as he let his thoughts go. It was dangerous enough to question the gods. More so to question one's entire believe system. The gods had to care in their own way. They had to. After all, Hemitheopolis exists and Damian had long suspected their involvement in its inception. Nothing else could explain the safety barrier. And the way his father spoke of Apollo had always been…<em>familiar.</em></p><p>Realizing his absence of presence, Damian picked up the conversation. "It's crazy how many heroes were born here. Heracles is only the most notable. For all Sparta's dominion over this country and their wars with Athens, it is his blood that runs through their line of kings."</p><p>Chloe shook her head, "All I know is that is one messy family tree. And if it says anything about this country, is that we are all united—one people. But somewhere along the line, it seems that we have forgotten it."</p><p>"Maybe…" Damian contemplated the sentiment. "Maybe, we've just momentarily lost our way." He pulled out the scroll that weighed so heavily in his satchel—their last hope now that one had already been rejected. "Maybe, this is the start of a new age. Maybe, this is when things start to change for the better."</p><p>"Maybe…" Chloe echoed, the slightest flicker of hope sparking within her eyes.</p><hr/><p>Chloe</p><p>The city loomed above her threateningly. All this talk of hope and a better future made her heart want to soar, want to believe it was possible, that everything would go back to the way it should have been, even herself. But what she had witnessed in Megara stifled that fluttering lift.</p><p>The guard that approached them however eased her tensions. Nothing about her in the least could be presumed as threatening. In fact, when Damian raised the seal of Hemitheopolis, there was something about those big brown eyes that peered from under her too-large battle helmet, something warm that almost resembled gratitude.</p><p>"Sir…Ma'am," the guard said with…was that respect…a smile even behind her helmet. The package before Chloe so contrasting with her newly shifted world view that it almost ricocheted her back to from before. "We've been waiting for your arrival. I have orders to escort you to your chambers."</p><p>"Our chambers?" Damian raised his brows in pleasant if a little suspicious surprise.</p><p>"Yes," the guard nodded enthusiastically. "For you to rest the night after your long, arduous journey. My sis-" she cleared her throat in an unsettled stumble and composed herself. "Our Archon is currently indisposed. She has ordered the royal chambers to be prepared for your stay here. After all, you are our most distinguished guest, Polemarch."</p><p>The guard bowed low and every line of Damian shifted with discomfort. "Thank you, my lady. You don't have to bow to me—to us." The guard's only reply a curt nod. She turned and signaled for them to follow.</p><p>Chloe and Damian trailed her up the rocky spiral. The view, breathtaking and ever-changing as they rose. The lush green plains they had only just rode through, spread out beneath them. Beyond the fields, a canopy of trees. Beyond the trees, snow-capped colossals whose beauty was only evanescent for all the evil that gathered within it.</p><p>Despite the audience of sentries they passed, Chloe could not resist the urge to take Damian's hand. Despite the circumstances, the climb was romantic. And gods be damned, she'd treasure every moment with him. Every moment that kept her feeling like she was still <em>her. </em>That she hadn't lost herself completely.</p><p>Then the moment ended as they arrived at the gates. Gates that were like nothing she had ever seen. Large stone slabs carved so intricately that the dull rock almost seemed ornate. Nothing at all like the glimmering golden gates of Hemitheopolis. Yet beauty still seemed the right word for it. A regal and ancient beauty that radiated a cold sort of strength.</p><p>Chloe's breath hitched as the doors groaned open. A sound so loud it sent pebbles skittering up in anticipated excitement.</p><p>They followed the young guard and what lay behind the door was a hundredfold of whatever it was that door was made of. The city contained not an inch of brick, limestone or even marble. Rows and rows of ordinarily grey solid stone. Yet it was the way the buildings had been scattered in an almost uniformed deformity that made the city feel alive. A living, breathing forge. The weapons it crafted not those of an ordinary forge but rather the people that dwelled within its walls. Hardened steel in the form of men and women.</p><p>Thebes, much like Sparta had always been a city more in tune with the art of war than the arts themselves. A far cry from the finery of Athens and Corinth. Everywhere Chloe looked—warriors. And according to the guard, Lysandra, these were only the outer rings of the city, where the families lived, where the retired or crippled soldiers lived.</p><p>The deeper they went, the denser the population of warriors, the more battle-worn. Men and women who wore their scars with a dangerous pride. Trophies of a sort, she supposed. For if they were alive, you could bet their enemies weren't. Training sessions were being conducted all over the city. Squadrons of men and women being pushed to the brink of physical exhaustion. The air thrummed with the clang of metal against metal. Metal against stone. Metal against wood.</p><p>Impressive was the word, not beautiful, not inspiring, but impressive. For this was not the type of life Chloe wished for. Not for her, not for anyone. It may be a satisfying or glorious one at first. But no good came of it in the end. All that would be left behind was a broken shell of a being. Because people like them would never stop fighting, not till the very end, not till their bodies or minds broke. Or worse, their lives forfeit. The best they could ever hope for was to be remembered in the history books. And even that was difficult in a place where everyone was vying for the honor.</p><p>A clash of two armies it was to be then. Both nestled within mountains of their own. Men versus monster.</p><p>Chloe turned to an awestruck Damian. Only then did she realise how special this was for Damian. For him to be sent out on a quest. Chloe had the first thirteen years of her life to explore the world as it was. Of course, some of it had been a carefully crafted lie on her father's part. Yet even then, at least she'd been given a chance to breathe, to have something that resembled freedom. The one advantage of being a strategoi's daughter, she supposed—her father was always being sent out as an ambassador to the other city-states. Now here she was as her father before her.</p><p>Damian's life was entirely different. Born in Hemitheopolis, he'd only been allowed to leave when out on a quest or task. And after his first one, the one where he had rescued her, it had been five years of barely leaving its walls. She knew why Hector did it. She might have asked the same. But it had been cruel on him in a way she had never thought.</p><p>A couple of monster attacks here, a few demigod arrivals there. That had been the extent of his journeys out of the fortress they called home. And most of them took him no further than Corinth. He had not shown this awe and appreciation in Megara for obvious reasons. But here, in this moment, atop this rock, she could see it clear as day. The steady, growing triumph of his heart at this smallest of waypoints. And it that moment Chloe made herself a silent promise. She would give him so much more. After this war and the wars to come were over. After the Grecian league was formed successfully, and peace reigned supreme. Then, she would bring him on a journey that he would never forget. They would explore Greece together, breathe in its sights and scents—its history even. And if that weren't enough for him, she would bring him further—maybe even discover new lands, new continents. And when finally, his sense of wonder and exploration were satisfied, then and only then, would she force him back to Hemitheopolis for the life she had always dreamed for themselves. A family.</p><p>"What's brewing in that head of yours?" Damian's smile, amused. She had been staring at him, hadn't she?</p><p>The smile she conjured in return, a weak one, having lacked the conviction of her thoughts. There was still so much that could go wrong. By the end of it all, would there be anything left of the girl he loved.</p><p>"Sorry, I've been quiet for far too long, haven't I?" Chloe managed. "Just lost in thought."</p><p>"There's nothing to forgive," his smile spreading into a grin. "In fact, please continue."</p><p>"Why?" Chloe asked with narrowed eyes. "What are you up to now?"</p><p>"Nothing…" he tilted his head closer to hers, his breath on her neck. "I just love the way your eyes flicker in the sun, as if they are dancing through your thoughts. And when you have found the problem that needs solving, your nose scrunches up in the slightest along with the knitting of your brows as if to bring together what is broken."</p><p>The heat that rose to her cheeks, nothing to do with the forge that was this city. "Someone's poetry has improved," she teased in an effort to compose herself.</p><p>"I know," Damian nodded matter-of-factly. "I've been practicing. It helps that the center of my affection is perpetually at my side."</p><p>Chloe sensing the opportunity for some revenge, tiptoed, and whispered softly in his ear, lips brushing ever so slightly against his skin. "And there I'll stay." It had the intended effect.</p><p>The guard who was escorting them cleared her throat, "This way, please."</p><p>"You're doing it again," Damian snorted after the next bout of silence.</p><p>"I thought you enjoyed it," Chloe countered.</p><p>"I do," his eyes glowing under the shadow of the citadel. "But I also like it when you're here with me—on this plane of reality."</p><p>"I'll try," Chloe said, guiltily. "There's a lot on my mind."</p><p>"Then talk to me, Chloe." Damian pleaded. "You know you can tell me anything."</p><p>He was pouting now. Damian had always known how easily it got past her defenses. "I do…" She agreed, hoping that it would be enough. His pout remained. "I'll tell you everything once we've had a nice bath and have rested, I promise." Her demons were not meant for the ears of others. Just like that, his smile returned. Carefree, handsome, terrifying. Terrifying, for there were so many things to worry about and any one of them could mean never seeing it again.</p><p>"This is Cadmea," the guard announced, finally stopping her furiously paced steps. Gods, the people of this city were fit. Chloe herself was no slouch in the department, but even her breaths were ragged from matching the guard's pace. "Citadel of Thebes. It is where the council meets and where the noble families live." Chloe looked up and down the multi-story crowning jewel of Thebes. This was where the most refined stone had been used it seemed. Chiseled to perfection and smooth to the touch. "You'll be staying here too."</p><hr/><p>Damian</p><p>They were lying in bed now, having taken a warm, reinvigorating bath. A magnificent dinner had been served on their arrival, courtesy of the citadel's servants. Damian was leaning against the headboard, Chloe's head resting against his chest as he breathed in the scent of her hair. He was gently massaging her shoulders as best his could, but they weren't lying in the most convenient of angles. It didn't help that she was being unresponsive.</p><p>"Chloe?"</p><p>"Mmm?" she purred.</p><p>"We've had a nice bath and we've rested. You've a promise to keep."</p><p>She pulled away, turning to face him, knees touching as they sat cross-legged. She took a deep breath, "I don't know where to start."</p><p>"Then let me," he offered. "It was my words that brought this about."</p><p>A flicker of confusion that quickly dawned into realization.</p><p>"None of it was your fault," Damian continued.</p><p>The realization contorting into long-concealed hurt. "That's what I tell myself every day," Chloe whimpered. "That I tried my best for every single one of them. Perhaps I didn't…perhaps I did. But that doesn't change the fact does it. Their blood was on my hands. I used to keep count; you know. I used to remember every face and name that I let slip through my grasp. Now…"</p><p>The sound of her choked sob the worst thing Damian had ever heard. The crumbling fragility of it all.</p><p>"Chloe, please…" he slipped his fingers between hers and squeezed.</p><p>"Now it seems that all they are is a long trail of blood that follows in my wake, running through my fingers and washing away my soul if not drowning it. It's like I don't feel anything anymore."</p><p>"Don't say that," he insisted, her pain consuming him along with her. "Sometimes we have no control of what we feel. Sometimes the pain is too much that numbness is all there is-"</p><p>"It was so much easier, Damian."</p><p>"What was?"</p><p>"Being…just being. Believing in humanity—in the good of it."</p><p>"Nothing is ever easy," Damian held her gaze with a demanding sort of concern. "You told me so yourself. It is a testament to who you are, that such an endless stream of kindness and goodness came so effortlessly to you when compared to most."</p><p>"Maybe I never was kind and good," her eyes fell with her voice. His heart fell with hers, shattering with the sharpness she had buried within. "Maybe it was all a lie born of naivety. It is far easier being good when you believe that all is right in the world."</p><p>This had to end. He reached for her, tilting her chin up with his fingers and pressing his lips to hers. And he hoped with that gentlest of motions, she would see the truth.</p><p>"Please," Damian begged. "Don't say such things. Don't even think it. If you are not good, then there is no hope for the rest of us." He kissed her again. Gentle as always but Chloe wanted more. He gave it to her. When they pulled apart, Chloe was crying.</p><p>"Did I hurt you?"</p><p>"No—never. I want to believe your words."</p><p>"Then do."</p><p>"But I've been having these thoughts Damian…these feelings that I've never felt before and I start to wonder if something within me is fundamentally broken. Dark morbid thoughts that should never come up so easily. I wished death upon so many. Upon Cadmus, upon those guards who thought cruelty a sport. Why are we like this? Why are we so inherently cruel when kindness is almost always the easier alternative? All I do now is hate and that only makes me hate myself. Tell me, what kind of healer would wish death upon another?"</p><p>"The one that's human. What you're feeling is normal. We all have that darkness within. What separates us from the rest is whether or not we act on it. Tell me this now, if Cadmus were here on this bed, bleeding out to death, would you save him?"</p><p>She looked at where he was pointing, her eyes glazing over the area as if she really had conjured up the scenario. After a moment of heavy silence, she answered. "I would."</p><p>"There," Damian said with a hand on her shoulder. "Irrefutable proof that you are still you. The same kind-hearted, compassionate girl I fell in love with and married."</p><p>What Damian didn't tell her though, was that he would have let Cadmus die. He may have regretted it, but the good of the many outweighed the life of one heartless bastard. That's what he told himself, at least, but a part of him knew it was a lie. He would have killed the man anyway, for what he had put Chloe through.</p><hr/><p>Edited 4th May 2021</p><p>- Minor sentence structure amendments</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Hope you enjoyed this one. I know most of you came to this story for Perlia but I hope my OCs have grown on you by now.</strong>
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  <strong>Do leave a comment if you enjoyed the chapter.</strong>
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  <strong>I'd really appreciate it.</strong>
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<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Pride of Athens</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks for all the love on the last chapter.</p><p>Apologies for the long wait but I'm back now. I forgot to announce my hiatus here as I mainly post on FFN. Really sorry about that. I'll be back posting weekly very soon.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Annabeth</p><p>Annabeth couldn't quite recall the last time she had slept so peacefully—probably not since before Damian's and her quest. She did not remember falling asleep, but it had been nice, talking to Percy, offering up a little of the darkness that weighed them down so. He was a great listener. A fact she had noticed across her many rambles. There was something about his presence she couldn't quite place…something that reminded her of Chloe—perhaps it was that elated glimmer of green that met her every word. That alone was enough for her to trust him completely.</p><p>Annabeth descended the narrow stairway only to be greeted by a familiar sound at the second to last step—a low creak. A rush of memories flooded her; all those years of hopping down the steps as Chloe chided her to be careful. Annabeth was pretty sure the floorboard had been damaged from said antics. She placed her weight on the step again, receiving another creak.</p><p><em>Gods</em>, Khnurn had not changed a thing. Every inch of this rickety old house, exactly as it had been. No repairs, renovation, or reinvention. It was beautiful…yet sad in more ways than one. It was like Khnurn had never moved on from the loss of them—this preservation of all things an attempt to retain the memories forged within these walls. And far worse, for Annabeth at least, was that it reminded her of a kind of carefree joy that she would never again have. A part of her yearned for it—to feel safe again.</p><p>She cleared the final steps with a single hop. <em>For old time's sake</em>, she thought. She was greeted with the sight of Percy and Khnurn hunched over a map, their hushed whispers sailing through the living room. They were in such deep discussion that they had not heard her descent. She cleared her throat, "Morning."</p><p>"Good morning," Khnurn greeted, eyes alight in that way it always was when he was faced with a question yet to be answered. "Percy and I were just discussing the best routes to sail for the islands."</p><p>Percy caught her attention with a warm smile and raised brows, "How'd you sleep?"</p><p>He was <em>almost</em> as overbearing as Chloe was. "Good…good, how about you?"</p><p>"Good enough I suppose."</p><p>"We have other more urgent things to discuss." Annabeth squeezed between them, eyeing the paths they had sketched on the map. "Like how we are going to get the Aeropagus to agree to the treaty."</p><p>"We'll need everyone present for that," Khnurn said. "Should one of you go wake Thalia?"</p><p>"No," Percy said quickly. "She needs rest." Scratch what she had said earlier, Percy was giving Chloe a run for her money.</p><p>"Did someone say my name?" Thalia grumbled groggily from the steps, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.</p><p>"We were just about to discuss the plan for today," Annabeth explained.</p><p>"Yes," Khnurn said, while rolling up the map and moving it aside. "But first, breakfast."</p><p>They took their seats as Khnurn went into the kitchen to prepare their food, Thalia still incessantly rubbing at her eyes. Percy gave her a doting look and said, "You should stop doing that, it's only gonna make things worse."</p><p>"And you," Thalia glared at him, "Should mind your own business." Well, somebody wasn't a morning person. Thalia turned to her and lamented, "I didn't see you last night." <em>Ever the observant one.</em></p><p>"Annabeth was—" Percy started but stopped after receiving a kick in the shin. He shot her an incredulous look that seemed to ask, <em>what was that for?</em></p><p>Ignoring him, Annabeth finished his sentence. "At the library. I couldn't fall asleep."</p><p>Annabeth did not particularly feel like explaining the fact that Percy and she had spent the whole night talking. Thalia was not one who enjoyed being left out of things. Especially when said things had anything to do with Percy.</p><p>Thalia gave her a blank stare, before rolling her eyes. "Of course you were," Thalia said dryly.</p><p>Percy though, still looked confused. Gods, he could be daft. Annabeth decided it best to take her leave before things got messy. She muttered something about helping Khnurn before slipping away. When Annabeth arrived in the kitchen, she reached for a mug of water and drank. A second later, she was met with a knowing smirk creeping over her mug.</p><p>"Who would have thought that both my daughters were keeping their love lives secret from me."</p><p>Annabeth nearly choked on his words, spitting out water. She did not know if it was the shock of being called his daughter, which he had never once did before or if it was what he had been implying. Probably both. "No," she stumbled over her words. "Percy and I are just friends."</p><p>"Just friends huh?" he smirked again. "Why would two <em>friends</em> stay the night in the same room and deign not to tell their other friend or me about it? Don't fret, I won't attack him or anything. He seems like a good lad. He was up since the wee hours of the morning helping me out with some errands."</p><p>"Nothing happened," Annabeth lowered her mug, narrowing her eyes at him. "We were only talking. A boy and a girl can be just friends, you know, and you've seen the two of them. No way in hell would I get in the way of that. For my own sanity if anything."</p><p>"Fair enough," he said while refilling her mug. "So…care to share what you two were talking about."</p><p>His suggestive tone only increasing her urge to glare him down before telling him to mind his own business—maybe Thalia and she were more alike than she had first thought. But Annabeth had not yet processed what Khnurn had said only moments ago. He had referred to her as his daughter. And that…that made her feel…</p><p>To be completely honest, Annabeth had no idea what to make of the swirling mess of emotions within her chest. She had a father of her own, one that had seemingly vanished of the face of the earth perhaps, but still…he was hers. Yet, it was Khnurn that had suffered her impetuous phase, him that had swept in to fill the void in her life, him who she had taken after.</p><p>That explained the confusion, but not the flash of anger. One that as she considered now, dawned on her. A part of her had always blamed Khnurn. For if not him, who else could have convinced her father not to leave his daughter behind on a whim. <em>No</em>—that was not fair at all. Not fair to either of them. Khnurn had tried; Annabeth remembered the heated arguments between the two.</p><p>"I have a daughter," Khnurn had tried to reason.</p><p>"So, have I," her father had said proudly in reply. As if the same argument made any sense in defence of his view. It did though, to him. A sentiment Annabeth only recently had begun to grasp. It was the pursuit of something greater. A desperate grasp at the unknown that was to some, the only path to being speared to greatness. To prove to all those that had loved him that he had lived—truly <em>lived</em>.</p><p>So there Annabeth stood, not quite sure what to feel or to say to the man who in all ways was her father buy yet not. Not through any fault of his own but to the existence of another. For it all, he deserved at the very least, honesty.</p><p>"We were just discussing our nightmares in the hopes that by dissecting and revealing them to another, that we would be free of them."</p><p>"You've been having nightmares?" he asked, smile wrinkling into a sad one as he turned away. "And did it help? Talking to him, I mean."</p><p>"It did, actually. And yes, I've had them through the years," Khnurn leaned against the stone counter, one arm folded across his stomach, the other massaging his temples. She leaned towards him, tilting her head up to catch his attention. "It's nothing…really. I just sort of learned to live with it. And whenever it got bad, I've always had the support I needed."</p><p>Khnurn let his hand fall from his temples, revealing a gaze so heavy it weighed her down. "I'm glad you've found friends that can help. But you could have written to me too."</p><p>Gods, she had been horrible, hadn't she? Unintentionally cruel in her words—implying that she didn't need him. And he was right, she had not written to him nearly as often as he deserved.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Annabeth held his hand in hers, his palms rough from the years of handling dry parchment. "I'll be better about that." And she would—once this quest was over, she'd write to him as often as humanly possible."</p><p>"I'd like that," he said, pulling her close and planting a kiss on her forehead. The comfort brought by that slightest of actions, a subtle sort of reinvention.</p><p>"Thank you."</p><p>"For what?" he asked.</p><p>"Everything," she said. "For being there when my father left. For raising me like your own. For giving me a home, a sister…a father." There, she had said it. It had been far easier than she had expected. Not a replacement but an addition. There were no rules when it came to family. Only love.</p><p>"How could I not," his voice wavering. "You were a precious little thing—you still are." He was chuckling now, eyes tearing up. She rested her head against his chest again, letting the warmth of him envelop her. They stood like that for a long moment. It was everything, that temporary taste of serenity. Then, Khnurn suggested they first serve breakfast.</p><p>"Agreed," Annabeth nodded. "Before those two start arguing over something trifling again." She helped Khnurn carry the platters of flatbread, cheese, and olives into the dining hall, only to find Percy and Thalia to not be arguing. No—they had been whispering amongst themselves as their fingers lay intertwined atop the table. They pulled away when they noticed her, both blushing furiously. Annabeth was no fool. Somewhere along this journey, something had changed. This thing between them had somehow become more intimate. But it was not her business to pry.</p><p>Thalia's face was brighter, as if she had shaken off the last of her sleep. Percy on the other hand…</p><p>Ah, so that was what had been discussed. Percy's refusal to catch a moment's rest. It seems she had countered his overbearing concern with some of her own. Good for them.</p><p>"So," Annabeth said, spurring on the conversation she had been eagerly awaiting. "What are we working with here? How do we convince the council to accept the offer?"</p><p>"I've thought about it all night," Khnurn said, reading through the treaty once again. "To solve this dilemma, we need first understand the reasons behind the council's decision."</p><p>"There's nothing to understand," Thalia said bitterly. "Athens did not answer the call because their hatred for Sparta runs deep."</p><p>"You are right on that count. The animosity between the states have never quite faded away. But you weren't there when we made the decision." Thalia and Annabeth both turned their glares on him. "Hey! Don't give me that look. I voted against the decision. But I understand why they did it; it's hard enough for us to defend ourselves. Why would we then send a portion of that defense across the continent? To help an old enemy no less."</p><p>"Maybe because people are dying," Percy cut in with a calm fury. "Good people. People that are giving their lives to protect the innocents."</p><p>Khnurn sighed heavily, "You don't have to gang up on me. I told you I'm on your side."</p><p>Percy gave him an apologetic look and waved for him to carry on.</p><p>"If Hemitheopolis or Sparta can offer something in return," Khnurn said carefully. "Then, I'm sure that Athens would be willing to help. The council is not unreasonable. You saw what they have done for the people of the outlying villages."</p><p>"We did," Annabeth said. "A beautiful sight. But one right does not make up for a wrong. And we have nothing to offer."</p><p>"I was afraid you were going to say that." Khnurn let out another sigh. "Then the best we can do is to try and appeal to their better nature. The council is not all bad…there are a few bad eggs of course, but that is an unavoidable fact of life. The archon is a good man, recently elected to his position, one that believes in a better future. He even voted to help Sparta. But he is one man fighting against an old regime of strategoi that have seen tens of archons rise and fall."</p><p>That of course was true. Athens had always been different in that each Archon was only allowed to serve a term of one year to prevent the kind of tyranny they had seen in Megara. Of course, that came with its own set of problems, like a whole council of tyrants. To combat that, the Archon's vote was weighted as two. Not much of a deterrent, but decisions have been swayed by less.</p><p>"Better nature?" Annabeth crossed her arms. "That's your grand plan. When ever in history has that worked. There must be something else. A weakness we can exploit to guarantee success."</p><p>"There always is," Khnurn scratched at his chin, as if to consider the matter. "Pride," he said finally. "The weakness of all great nations."</p><p>"Hmm…pride I can work with," said Annabeth. "But still pride alone is not enough."</p><p>"It will have to be," Khnurn stared her down. "We have three out of thirteen votes already secured. Don't do something reckless that we might all regret."</p><p>"I wouldn't dream it," Annabeth said sweetly. Dreaming was for the idealists of this world. Actions were what made heroes. "We made a promise to our Archon to not make enemies."</p><hr/><p>Annabeth had lost once in Megara, and that had been hard enough, but losing twice was unthinkable. This was her god-damned home. And the gods be damned, she would force them into the decision if she had to. So, as they made their way up the Acropolis and to the council chamber, she pulled Percy and Thalia aside to run them through the plan.</p><p>"I'm in," said Percy the instant Annabeth was done.</p><p>"No," Thalia stood firm. "Absolutely not. This is the stupidest idea you have ever conceived. There's too much risk involved. So many things that could go wrong. Any one of them could lead to-"</p><p>"Since when did you worry about things being too dangerous?" Percy shot her a lopsided smile.</p><p>"All the god-damned time," Thalia growled, the picture of wild aggression. But as usual, when it came to Percy, her anger was only fleeting. A heartbeat later, she was an uncertain young demigod afraid to lose a friend. "Especially when it means putting you in harm's way." Thalia's voice now a mere whisper.</p><p>Annabeth was certain that Thalia had not meant for her to hear that. But she had, and it was the way in which Thalia had said it that made Annabeth reconsider the plan. She had never heard Thalia sound so <em>vulnerable</em>.</p><p>"Maybe Thalia is right," Annabeth said. "Forget I asked."</p><p>Percy, stubborn as he was, held his ground. "This is my decision to make and my decision is final. We do whatever it takes to get Sparta the help it needs."</p><p>"Then let me be the one to do it." Thalia squared up to Percy.</p><p>"Even if it were possible. The answer to that will always be no."</p><p>"Then you understand why it is I cannot agree to this plan."</p><p>They were only inches away now. The weight of the ocean against the weight of the sky. Who would crumble first?</p><p>"If it has to be any of us," Percy said calmly. "Better it be me."</p><p>"This again," Thalia scoffed. "When will you realise that your life is worth as much as any of ours."</p><p>"It isn't," Percy continued. "I-"</p><p>"If this is about me being a Spartan warrior," Thalia cut in. "You can forget about it. I'm not—I have never been."</p><p>"No," Percy breathed. "It's the fact that my entire village perished because of me. I have enough death on my hands. I cannot bare to add any of you to that list."</p><p>"Sparta is not your responsibility," Thalia pulled Percy's hand into hers. "It is mine."</p><p>"Then it is mine too."</p><p>"Percy, please." Thalia pleaded, shoulders dropping in defeat. "We can find another way. You don't have to this for me."</p><p>"I'm not doing this for you," Percy said gently. What a <em>stupid</em> thing to say. As expected, the damage was done. Thalia pulled her hand away from his, hurt hurtling through her features. She turned on her heels, ready to storm off but Percy was quick to react.</p><p>"Thalia, that's not what I meant. Of course, I'm doing this for you. But I'm also doing it for me. I won't be able to live with myself if don't do everything in my power to help. We talked about this, didn't we? The cycle of heroism."</p><p>"Fine," Thalia whirled so she was facing him again. "Be that way. Pick and choose my words to your liking. Use them against me when convenient but choose not to listen to them when I'm begging you to." She had a finger to his chest now, trembling with anger and held with such force, Annabeth was sure it hurt. Percy made no move to remove it.</p><p>"Thalia-" Percy started but she shot him down.</p><p>"Do as you will. If something goes wrong, I will personally kill you."</p><p>Thalia then set her sights on Annabeth—a poisonous, piercing glare that would have sent a shiver down her spine had she not known that the anger was coming from a place of love. A moment later, Thalia was marching off to the council chamber, leaving Percy and Annabeth trailing behind.</p><p>"Don't worry," Annabeth nudged Percy by the shoulder. "She'll forgive you. Anyway, hopefully we will have no need to enact this crazy plan of mine. Hopefully pride and 'better nature' is enough."</p><p>Percy offered her a determined half-smile. "We do what has to be done. Nothing less."</p><hr/><p>"You would bid us send away a portion of our precious navy—a portion of our defenses, to help Sparta!" a frail old man yelped in defiance, practically spitting out the words.</p><p>"Archon," Annabeth said sweetly. That seemed to have elicited the slightest glint of amusement in the archon's eyes, tired looking as they were. He was a well-built man in his mid-thirties with smooth brown skin and dark cropped hair. "I would appreciate it if you could keep your dogs in line." Khnurn, who was off to the far edge of the council table shot her a warning look that said, <em>do not push your luck.</em></p><p>The frail old man in question rose to his feet with surprising gusto, one that clearly did not come from physical strength, but rather from an old bigoted stubbornness.</p><p>"Sit down, Ithaca," Lysistratus, the Archon, said harshly. "I won't ask again." The man grumbled as audibly as possible as he returned to his seat. At least he understood that disobeying a direct order from the Archon was frowned upon and should the Archon decide, could be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. That fact would help their cause greatly. The ancient laws were clear. For their time in office, the Archon was to be respected above all others.</p><p>This power was of course fleeting in its nature. An archon held no true power without the backing of his council. And beyond this chamber, within private halls and shadowed alleys…well, orders were not always direct, were they?</p><p>"I apologise for the lack of manners, my lady." There it was again, that glint. He was enjoying this. The opportunity to exert his power against those who schemed against him. That was after all the advantage of an audience. Annabeth decided then that she liked this Archon very much. Finally, a leader who was willing to fight for what was right. Maybe there was hope yet for Greece. "I hope we have not ruined our image in your eyes."</p><p>"No, never." Annabeth smiled. "Ours is not one so easily tarnished."</p><p>"Ah," the Archon settled his hands on the table as he leaned forward. "A fellow Athenian. I hope the city has not disappointed you in your return." Of course, the archon knew exactly who she was. This was all part of the show.</p><p>"It hasn't." she said. "But I fear the way things are going that tarnished is all we will be."</p><p>"I appreciate the sentiment," Lysistratus nodded, taking a sweeping glance of his council as if to gather opinion. "But we believe otherwise. We cannot spare what we ourselves lack."</p><p>So that was his plan. To play devil's advocate and act like he had been swayed into agreeing with the majority of his council. A form of unity against a common enemy. Said enemy being her.</p><p>As planned, Khnurn barged in with his line. "We cannot risk the safety or our own people for those of Sparta. It is not how this world works."</p><p>"It is exactly how it works." Thalia interjected, with arms raised in challenge. "Or have you all forgotten why it is your nation still stands. Was it not King Leonidas himself that held Thermopylae for three days? Him and his people who held that narrow pass till their dying breaths. Have you forgotten why?"</p><p>Only silence greeted her. A silence that echoed the shame of its inhabitants who had been made to look fools.</p><p>"For those who have forgotten and those who have chosen to forget, let me refresh your memory." Thalia's voice had taken on a dangerous tone. It was a testament to her ferocity, that even weaponless, she was able to send shivers of discomfort through some on the council. "King Leonidas held the pass so that the people of Athens could evacuate before the Persians razed this city to the ground. Now look where we stand—back in this city, rebuilt from the ashes, rebuilt to surpass even its former glory, its people alive. Will we be able to say the same of Sparta once this is all over? Will this be your legacy?"</p><p>"You talk too much for someone too young to have experienced the horrors of war," Ithaca sneered. "The horrors we have inflicted on each other. There is no reconciliation after that."</p><p>"Ithaca," Annabeth addressed the bastard directly. "I apologize for my earlier insolence. I see now that you more than others, care deeply about this city. It is why you defend it so, is it not?"</p><p>The man smiled, yellow teeth showing as he tilted his head at a jaunty angle as if to announce his pride. "It is and I am." <em>Idiot. </em>Good, idiots were easy to manipulate.</p><p>"We are alike," Annabeth continued. "Athenian through and through. And on our honor as Athenians, is it not required—no, is it not our mandate to repay this favor? At least then we would never again owe our enemy." There, her big sell. Hitting them where it still hurt in those old, shriveled hearts—their pride.</p><p>Yet as Annabeth met the twelve pairs of eyes staring down at her, she was sure it had not been enough. She prayed then to all the gods that everything would go exactly as planned and should it not, gods forgive her. She gave Percy the signal. Thalia was beside him, stone-faced.</p><p>"Your honor," Percy started, head bowed low and words wavering in uncertainty. "If I may."</p><p>Khnurn eyed her wearily. <em>What are you playing at</em>, he seemed to ask.</p><p>
  <em>Whatever is necessary-</em>
</p><p>"And this is?" Their silent conversation interrupted by the Archon's voice. He had turned his attention from Percy to her.</p><p>"A new recruit." Annabeth said quickly. "Forget he said anything. He has no right-"</p><p>"No," Lysistratus said. "I believe it is perfectly within his right to speak up. This is after all a council chamber and we are but a council. So, council we will. Where are you from?"</p><p>"Co-Corinth, sir." Percy trembled, shuffling forward ever so slowly.</p><p>"Ah, I take it you were from the villages. What was it like? Being rescued by the great and mysterious Hemitheopolis."</p><p>And here they were again. The price for all their years of secrecy. Always the same. Good or bad, this was what all others sought. A glimpse beyond the golden gates.</p><p>"Well, I suppose…great and mysterious," Percy raised his head only slightly, revealing a nervous smile.</p><p>The Archon let out a hearty chuckle at that. "I like this one." He turned his gaze to Thalia next. "And you girl, must come from Sparta. It is only a Spartan who can make an entire council of the bravest Athenian leaders uncomfortable."</p><p>Thalia curtsied at the recognition as the Archon's words were greeted with a bout of nervous laughter. The man was smart. Killing the tension, revealing his savviness, and praising his council all at once. Constantly plotting, always manipulating. Annabeth could learn a thing or two from him.</p><p>"So," Lysistratus gestured to Percy with a casual flick of his wrist. "What is it you wanted to ask."</p><p>This was it. The endgame. Thalia knew it too, her stony exterior cracking as worry began to show.</p><p>"A-ask?" Percy stammered, making that final step required to close the distance. It was then the council realised their mistake. The moment that frail, nervous boy stood tall, shoulders squared, head thrown back to reveal a wrathful determination.</p><p>A heartbeat later, the Archon was pinned back in his chair, crystal prongs pressing up against his throat. "No—I demand." Annabeth had to give it to Percy, he could put on a menacing façade, even when the person beneath was nothing if not a gentle soul. "Send aid to Sparta."</p><p>"And if I don't," Lysistratus challenged. To everyone in the chamber, it would have seemed that the Archon had been addressing Percy. But Annabeth knew better and so did he. This was a battle of wits between them. And the show must go on. "What will you do then, young man. Will you kill me? So be it."</p><p>That threw Percy off. This none of them had expected. An open invitation. Thankfully, he recovered quickly.</p><p>"What good will that do me." Percy feigned a wild grin. "The blood of Poseidon flows through my veins. Choose to abandon Sparta and it is his wrath you will face."</p><p>"Ah, I see." Lysistratus curled his lips, sounding almost disappointed as he said, "As expected, an empty threat. Guards! Arrest him."</p><p>"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Percy taunted, leaning into his trident. "I assure you, an empty threat it is not. I could sink your precious navy in the matter of seconds. Tell me, Archon, what is Athens without its navy?"</p><p>Still, the Archon did not falter. <em>Dammit</em>. Annabeth had never wanted to plan to go this far. But she had not expected such a worthy opponent. Every calculated move of his made in parallel to hers—all to project his own excellence to his council. It was hard not to respect someone who stood calm in the face of his own death. This display was sure to turn at least some over to his side.</p><p>Yet as she cursed him for bringing it to this. A part of her knew it was necessary. There was a reason her plan had gone this far in its inception. If this were to be a complete success, the majority of the council would have to be turned. A threat alone to the Archon's life would never have been enough. It had always only been the slightest of hopes. And even then, there would still be need for Hemitheopolis to have zero accountability for this situation.</p><p>Annabeth stole another glance at Thalia. Unlike Percy, not all she was presenting was an act. Thalia rushed forward with imperceptible speed. A second later, she had Percy pinned to the ground, one knee on his back, his trident having seemingly vanished as she grabbed it.</p><p>"How could you?" Percy wailed, struggling from underneath her—voice raw with emotion. "I'm doing this for your people! I'm doing this for you!"</p><p>Tears were streaming freely down Thalia's cheeks, her voice as raw as his. "I did not ask this of you! If Sparta is to be saved, it will be saved by virtue of Athens and not by threats. Sparta will keep its honor."</p><p>Another line that would unnerve the council. A silent challenge. <em>Will Athens?</em></p><p>Moments later, a handful of guards arrived, cuffing Percy, and helping Thalia to her feet. Percy was thrown to his knees before the council, his face splattered lightly with blood from a kick in the face. Annabeth hated herself now more than ever. Things would get a lot worse for Percy before it got better.</p><p>"Bring him to my chambers," Lysistratus commanded. "See to it that he is kept unharmed. I'll deal with him personally." That throwaway line at least giving her some hope that Khnurn had been right about the Archon. That this was still all a show and that later, Percy would be silently released.</p><p>"No," Ithaca spoke out again.</p><p>"No?" Lysistratus raised his brows. "Are you dismissing a direct order from your Archon?"</p><p>"Of course not," Ithaca revealed that greasy smile of his again. "I only suggest we bring him straight to the Desmoterion. If he is to be believed, he is far too dangerous to this city to be given even a chance to roam free.</p><p>Lysistratus started as if to shut him down again but back his tongue. He must have realised that doing so would compromise his act. "Fine," he said with an apathetic wave.</p><p>Ithaca still smiling, turned his sights to Thalia. The man's oily gaze a despicable, wrinkled thing. "It seems we now owe you our eternal gratitude." Thalia with an almost grimace, forced herself into a polite nod, tears still present for all to see. Annabeth could only imagine how difficult it was for her. "How convenient." Ithaca drawled.</p><p>Not as big an idiot as she had first thought apparently. Nonetheless, Percy and Thalia's dramatics should have done the trick. It was now up to her to conclude their show.</p><p>Annabeth scrubbed at her face with her palms and sighed heavily. "This is my fault. I take full responsibility. He was always so quiet, so detached from the others we rescued. I thought it best for him to tag along. Please accept this humble apology and let it not ruin the good work of our great cities."</p><p>"No," Thalia cut in. "It is mine and mine alone. I should have known. He always wanted to play the hero."</p><p>"Enough of this, Ithaca." said Khnurn. "Can't you see the girl is distraught. Is this how we treat those who have saved us? Soon the name Athens will stand for nothing but dishonor."</p><p>"And that is something we cannot survive," said a lady, who Annabeth assumed to be the Polemarch, seeing that she was sat beside Lysistratus. Her voice was one that commanded obedience. No, demanded it. "Though, I have to say, names are a curious thing aren't they. <em>Hemitheopolis. </em>The stories are true then. Yours is a city of demigods."</p><p>Annabeth scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. Just because we're better at keeping secrets, you think us this mysterious city full of demigods. A demigod city," she let loose a laugh. "Could you imagine?"</p><p>"Then how do you explain what it is we just witnessed?" It was Lysistratus now who asked the question.</p><p>"All cities have their demigods," Annabeth said, stringing together her lie as she held his challenge. "It's just that you lot it seems, have not yet found yours. But be it as you will, if you think Hemitheopolis to be such a grand, powerful thing, I suggest you not make an enemy of it."</p><p>"Ha," Lysistratus slammed his fist against the council table, laughing in amusement. "Very well, sell me this treaty of yours. Then we will talk of Sparta."</p><p>"This treaty is not only in Sparta's interest," Annabeth continued. "It protects Athens too should the time come that they require the aid of the other city-states."</p><p>"A tempting proposition," Ithaca drawled. "But I find it hard to believe that Athens would ever need the help of the others."</p><p>"If I recall," Annabeth drawled back, tired of hearing the bastard's voice. "It was Athens who wrote to Hemitheopolis for aid in rescuing the islanders." That shut him up. Cold hard facts had that effect on people like him.</p><p>"Melanthe," Lysistratus looked to the lady who spoke earlier. "How many triremes can we spare?"</p><p>The lady, Melanthe, took a moment, brows furrowed as she did the mental calculations. "Three, my lord. Nothing more."</p><p>"There you have it. We can spare two triremes to be sent to Sparta and one for you to rescue the islanders."</p><p>"Three to Sparta," Thalia cut in. "We won't be needing a trireme to save those islanders. The large crew will only slow us down. Any old boat will do."</p><p>"And with what crew would you plan to sail this boat with?" the Archon asked.</p><p>"With ours, of course." Thalia said casually.</p><p>A lie. But she was right. With Thalia and Percy, they would not require a crew to sail the boat. "One of the old Penteconters will do," Annabeth chimed in.</p><p>"If you insist. But those boats have been decommissioned for a reason," Melanthe said. "They are not as efficient."</p><p>"Yes, but they require a smaller crew, no?" Annabeth challenged and Melanthe nodded. "Then so be it."</p><p>"Then," Lysistratus said loudly, hushing all the murmurs and mutterings that had been increasing in volume throughout the meeting. "We shall put it to a vote. All in favor?" The majority raised their hands. All except Ithaca and two others. The plan had worked to perfection. But now…she gulped as she met Thalia's gaze. A hollow, haunted thing. Annabeth would have preferred a glare. At least then she could have felt something other than guilt. Now they would have to break Percy out of prison.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Hope you enjoyed this one. Things are getting a little spicy, aren't they? Just a few more chapters of this highly political arc and we will be hurtling straight towards action.</strong>
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  <strong>Do leave a comment if you enjoyed the chapter.</strong>
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  <strong>I'd really appreciate it.</strong>
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<a name="section0028"><h2>28. The Lion of Thebes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Thanks for all the love on the last chapter.</p><p>This chapter is kinda short and saw no need to extend it so…yeah I hope you enjoy it for what it is.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe</p><p>Chloe and Damian were escorted through a seemingly infinite number of narrow stone corridors. The only respite from the corridors, stairs that led to others. Every inch polished to gleam like marble. The guards that were lined along the path stood so still that one would not be remiss to think them statues, had they not been the only items of a less monochrome nature. But statues they might as well have been, for it was a stony exterior that greeted Chloe's polite smiles.</p><p>For most, this might have been a claustrophobic space. For Chloe, it was nothing. Nothing compared to the nauseating heat of the infirmary. The putrid scent fashioned and fused from herbs, blood, and infected flesh. Yet it was not the scent nor heat that had suffocated her. It was the despair. The sheer, broken despair of mortality and its inevitable, imminent end.</p><p>The thought struck something deep and aching within her. She had been so caught up on what she had lost, she had almost forgotten those left behind. Perhaps she shouldn't have come on this quest. It was selfish of her. How many more would suffer for her mistakes?</p><p>"You're doing it again," Damian's fingers slipped between hers. "I thought we talked about it. I thought you understood."</p><p>"I did," she said, only to elicit a raised eyebrow in response. "I do…but it's just that I remembered all the wounded Hemitheopolians—"</p><p>"And you blame yourself," he finished for her. Chloe huffed and shoved his hand away playfully. "Chloe, you can't keep going down this road."</p><p>"I know—I'm not. I'm just thinking off all that we have lost in the last few months. We are at war or at least on the brink of one, yet we have not struck a single victory against the enemy. We don't even know who the enemy is. I fear to think of what else we may lose and if there'll be anything left after it all."</p><p>"So, we'll do it."</p><p>"Do what?"</p><p>"Strike our first victory," Damian said, his jaw set in determination. "Then the next. On and on till we have beat back the darkness and won this war. Till every last soul has been avenged. The aftermath is ours to decide. And I have decided. No more death."</p><p>Chloe willed her heart to steady its beating. Damian had always had a way with words. Perhaps not a poet, though that was quickly changing, but a certain ability to string along his audience as he did his words. It was a terrifyingly exhilarating thing, to be a part of said audience. Words that could make men and women alike dive towards their deaths with a smile. Words that could distort the brutal honesty of reality. <em>No more death</em>. She knew it to be impossible yet believe she did. Perhaps <em>believe</em> was not the right word. She yearned for it to be true.</p><p>Victory. Even a chance at it was a good enough place to start. She was tired of it, this game of cat and mouse between Greece and the forces of darkness. Months of moving the pieces into play. It had to be done of course, shepherding the common-folk to safety was the priority. But in that time their enemy had strengthened and converged. And now, it was only a matter of time before all hell broke loose. She prayed for their victory, prayed that there'd be an <em>after</em>. One that would be better for what it had endured. A united land with a united people.</p><p>"We've arrived," announced Lysandra. It seemed she had been specifically assigned to be their escort. She nudged open the looming twin doors before them and craned her neck to steal a peek. All that bubbly enthusiasm morphing into a fidgety-childlike anxiety. The girl couldn't have been older than fifteen.</p><p>"The Archon is awaiting your presence," Lysandra whispered their way and with that proceeded to shove open the doors. She carved a low bow before stepping aside an announcing their arrival. Damian and Chloe followed suit with bows of their own, making sure to avert their gaze as a form of respect. This was a council that had yet to wrong them. Even if they weren't the final hope, it would be best not to earn their ire.</p><p>It was to Chloe's surprise, that when she was commanded to rise, she came face to face with a council of men and women so young, their most senior looking member was a man in his mid-twenties. Nothing like any of the city-states she'd visited before. That was for sure. The centerpiece of the stone chamber was none other than the Archon; such was her presence. She sat with one leg crossed over the other, broad shoulders and muscled arms accentuated by the sleeveless boiled-leather armor she wore. Spreading behind her like wildfire was a wild mane of auburn hair that contrasted so vividly with her pale skin, it was like watching the sun set past snowy peaks. Yet it was none of those that made the Archon the behemoth she was but rather the respect—no, <em>reverence</em> she commanded.</p><p>A sort of order and discipline that permeated every inch of the chamber that was not occupied by her. Every member of the council sat upright, their ink-black, scaled armor donned to perfection. The more Chloe thought about it, the more it reminded her of Hemitheopolis's Aeropagus. Not the unnervingly obscene perfection but rather its brutal honesty. This was a council that knew what it had been formed for. To run the city, protect its people and make the tough decisions. What a council should be, not the heavily decorated and bejeweled circus that had awaited them in Megara which prioritized their own fortunes over those of their people.</p><p>"My lady," Damian nodded in respect.</p><p>"My lord," the Archon purred, leaning forward, her eyes scanning Damian from head-to-toe, gaze held for far too long and far too intently. Damian was of course oblivious to the Archon's advancements. It was only when Chloe saw the glimmer of enticement flicker across the Archon's eyes, did she clear her throat and glare at the Archon as if to say <em>back off.</em></p><p>That seemed to garner her attention. The Archon's lips spread into a smile that could only be described as feral, enticement still lingering. Chloe did not know how to react to that except be flustered. The Archon leaned back into her chair and beckoned them forth with a lazy flick of the wrist.</p><p>As they approached, the lady at the Archon's side rose. She had golden skin and a curtain of dark curls bouncing at her shoulders. "Bow before our Archon. Larissa, The Lion of Thebes." As if on command, the Archon shook her head, causing her auburn hair to ripple behind her like a mane.</p><p>"There'll be no need for that. Bowing once was enough," said Larissa as she cupped a hand to her mouth as if to whisper a secret. "Forgive her. I've told her along time ago to do away with such frivolous formalities, but Zandra here is just a little wound up. She misses the battlefield—we all do."</p><p>The lady, Zandra, returned to her seat and shot Larissa a withering glare. Larissa's answer, another feral grin. This one was however different. Chloe had seen the gentle warmth they had both offered each other in that brief moment of contact.</p><p>"Where were we?" Larissa asked, for once showing some loss of composure as she tore her gaze from Zandra. "Ah, yes. To hell with formalities. After all, it was I who asked for your aid. Yet no one told me the Polemarch would be so…young. I had expected a drearily wrinkled old man. But this…" she was giving Damian that look again. Like a lion stalking its prey, "This I can work with."</p><p>"You're young too," Chloe stepped in. "All of you."</p><p>"Now that's a long and bloody story," Larissa whipped out a knife, her lips twitching with the hint of a smile. "And it ends with this knife buried in my predecessor's heart."</p><p>Chloe stepped back then, suddenly afraid for her safety and Damian's. She was getting more and more convinced that the woman before her was deranged. No, Chloe steeled herself and took back the distance she had retreated. The concern Larissa had shown Zandra in that moment must have extended to her people. She was a respected leader. This had to be an act. One that was born out of necessity. Perhaps it was to build a reputation, perhaps it was the only way to reign in this city of warriors.</p><p>"Archon," Zandra warned. "We don't have the time to waste."</p><p>"You always have to ruin the fun, don't you?" she said, twirling her knife. "The lady—Chloe was it? Asked a question. So, an answer she'll get. What will my people say when word spreads that I do not respect my guest?" Zandra crossed her arms and rolled her eyes in exasperation.</p><p>"This," Larissa started again, "This is a story of redemption. For too long our city has been besmirched in dishonor. A once great city. A city of legend. A city of heroes. We have fallen a long way since the glory days, and that can only be blamed on the sniveling conniving old men that sat upon these chairs, corrupting everything they touched. Do you know how it felt?" The hand that held the knife was trembling almost imperceptibly. "To dedicate your entire life to a belief of a greater purpose. I wanted to be like the heroes of old. Like Cadmus and Hercules. But when I went out into the world, a young naïve warrior ready to prove her worth, I was met with hatred. 'Why?' I finally asked a particularly approachable looking lady. You know what she did? She spat on me then cursed me to eternal damnation for good measure."</p><p>Larissa held her gaze for a moment, her smile a permanent fixture. "Ah, I see. You don't understand why anyone would do such a thing. I was the same. But then I was met with the same abhorrence from every city I visited. Thebes was the only city-state to ally with Persia. Of course, that's not what we young Thebans were taught. But that didn't matter to them. Why should it? I felt it then, the shame of a nation. So, when me and my companions learnt of what the men in this chamber were brewing next, we took matters into our own hands."</p><p>"You <em>killed</em> them all," Chloe said with visible disgust. Such flagrant disregard for life. Perhaps she was deranged.</p><p>"Is it murder?" Larissa pointed the knife at Chloe. "To kill a few to save thousands."</p><p>"Murder is murder," Chloe answered, knowing how much of a hypocrite she was being as familiar faces from Megara floated around her in a red haze. "You could have taken them prisoner instead."</p><p>"I suppose we could have…but it's a little too late for them," drawled Larissa, dragging the knife across her own neck, the metal running so close to her skin that Chloe winced. "Oh well…it's a pity, I know. But what is done cannot be undone."</p><p>"All high and mighty you are," Zandra cut in with a ferocious calm. "You weren't there when we found their schemes. They were planning a war. Hasn't our country seen enough death? Haven't the rivers flown red for long enough?"</p><p>"There must have been an alternative. There has to be a better way forward" Chloe pleaded, more to herself than anything. Damian squeezed her hand.</p><p>"There wasn't," Larissa growled. "Though I may seem like it," she flashed her teeth, "I am no mindless beast. We had to send a message. If we didn't, the like-minded would have risen and taken back power. But what we did put the fear of god in them and so the tides were turned. Out with the old and in with the new."</p><p>"A coup," Damian said after his long silence.</p><p>"A coup, a slaughter, cold-blooded murder. Call it what you want, I couldn't care less." Larissa slid her knife back into its sheathe. "I call it redemption—or at least its beginning. So, let us stop with these games and get down to business. We are here to slay an army of monsters, are we not?"</p><p>"Careful Archon," Damian warned with a forced smile. "It is not unheard of for monsters to be clothed in human flesh."</p><p>Larissa uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, closer than she had done before and fluttered her long lashes as she spoke. "Oh, <em>this one</em> I like. Tell us Polemarch, what do we need to succeed."</p><p>"An army would be a good start."</p><p>"An army you shall have," she said simply. "But at what cost. My people love sacrificing themselves on the battlefield as much as the rest of us, but why should we? Surely it is best for us to hide behind our walls."</p><p>"You could do that," Damian took one step forward and held her stare. "But what about all the people who are not behind these walls. The longer we wait, the larger the enemy forces become. And mark my words, no matter how impregnable your fortress is…it will fall when a horde attacks. The creatures that take to sky will pick off your archers easily enough while the giants trample down your walls."</p><p>"Point taken."</p><p>"They've also made a grave error."</p><p>"How so?"</p><p>"They've gathered in a mountain pass, haven't they?" This time it was Damian's turn to grin.</p><p>"The perfect location for an ambush."</p><p>"Exactly."</p><p>"I presume that we are alone in this effort?"</p><p>"Megara would not pledge their assistance," Chloe chimed in to get the Archon's attention off of Damian. Perhaps she was being petty.</p><p>"I expected no less," she snorted. "What I would give to slaughter them. Scheming bastards."</p><p>"They might still come," Chloe said quickly, willing her thoughts not to stray towards joining Larissa in said slaughter. "The people are organizing a coup too. One without bloodshed."</p><p>Larissa ignored her jibe and continued. "Do we have enough men?"</p><p>"It depends…how many can you spare?" Damian asked.</p><p>"Six thousand." Chloe shook her head in disbelief.</p><p>"That should do it," said Damian, thoroughly impressed. "We might just stand a chance. But first, we will need to train your men on how to deal with the various beasts we will face. That is after all why you called for our assistance."</p><p>Larissa glanced at Zandra, "My polemarch will bring you the Sacred Band—our elite unit. Train them and they will pass on the knowledge to rest of the army."</p><hr/><p>Damian</p><p>It had taken all of his strength not to be unnerved by Larissa. She was headstrong and insane, but there was a certain presence to her, a certain strength. He had been steadfast, not retreating an inch. But the more he thought about it, the more she reminded him of a younger Dorian. If the stories were to be believed, Dorian was an untamed, unbridled force of nature. Perhaps it was exactly what they needed to win this war. It was a good thing then that they had found Thalia.</p><p>Damian was not like them. Perhaps, he had come close that night Dorian had passed. But all he remembered of that night was a blur of images. There had been so much blood, heads rolling everywhere. The only image seared into his mind, was the fear that had flashed across Annabeth's features when she had looked at him.</p><p><em>Gods</em>, he missed her. She would have loved verbally sparring with Larissa. But at least she would be safe in Athens. He couldn't bear the thought of seeing her hurt again.</p><p>They emerged from the citadel, leaving behind the gleaming stone walls in favor of rolling green fields. Six thousand men and women. Damian still found it hard to believe. He had never even seen close to that many at once. Zandra stopped at a small, tented area in the far end of the field. It was nothing glamorous, a sheet of stained canvas held up by wooden stakes, but what it contained was entirely so. A couple hundred blurs of whirling steel and leather. They fought like demons, leaping from spot to spot with unorthodox movements.</p><p>Zandra whistled, and within moments, the warriors had fallen into formation, their weapons sheathed. And what an unusual formation it was.</p><p>"The Sacred Band," Larissa's voice snuck up on him. Where in Hades had she come from? "Magnificent aren't they. My finest creation. The people of Thebes used to fight for honor and glory. But we were left without a purpose after the King's peace. We had to learn the hard way that there was no more of that to be found in war. That's where I came in," she slid past him and turned to face them, arms raised wide.</p><p>"I thought if not for glory, why not fight for love? Each pair you see before you are lovers, completely and eternally devoted to each other, in life, death and whatever comes after. They spar, eat, sleep, and live together. Hopefully, they'll die together. Their vows were exchanged before the shrine of Iolaus."</p><p>"Did it work?" Damian asked, noticing the tinge of red rising at Chloe's cheeks.</p><p>"Why do you think it's our elite unit? Of course, it worked." Larissa scoffed.</p><p>Damian thought about all the battles he had fought aside Chloe. Loving her had never made it easier. But it was that love for her that kept him fighting. It was all so confusing. The paralyzing fear that stirred him on. Oh, the irony.</p><p>"You are conflicted, yes?" Larissa tilted her head slightly. "You wonder how putting your other half in danger helps you. It is no easy thing, to trust one another so completely. To be utterly terrified yet not at all. A fear that drives you to fight for the other, but to never truly fear the worst. It is why my band is as small as it is. Such devotion is rarely found."</p><p>Chloe offered him a sidelong glance, a playful smile playing on her soft lips. <em>I told you to stop babying me.</em></p><p><em>You'd have to stop doing so too.</em> Her nostrils flared, but she was still smiling. He would have been perfectly content staring at her till the end of time, but he was called back to reality when both Larissa and Zandra joined ranks.</p><p>"Err…what are you doing?"</p><p>"I'm part of the sacred band too. You'd think I'd form an elite unit without being part of it. Even if I weren't the greatest warrior to ever be, what would the people think of me then?"</p><p>"Fair enough," Damian said. "I'll take us through all the common monsters that we will be likely to face and their weaknesses. But other than that, the best we can do is to rely on our instincts. I was not able to make out most of the species in the army and older, more ancient creatures have been reemerging, so, we must expect the unexpected."</p><p>"And here I thought you would be worth our time," Larissa drawled. "Fighting on instinct is what we do best."</p><hr/><p>"Do we have to do this?" Damian whined. "We've already made our vows. And I would much rather be spending my time with you in bed—resting after all that training."</p><p>"Come on," Chloe said tugging him by the arm. "What's the harm in making more vows? Do you plan on breaking any? Besides, who knows, the spirits of old might bless us and protect us in battle."</p><p>Damian raised his eyebrows skeptically. "I will protect you in battle."</p><p>"We'll protect each other," Chloe said firmly. "Anyway, weren't you the one who was so fascinated by the heroes of Thebes. This is the shrine of Iolaus for god's sake. Heracles closest companion and for a time, lover. He was instrumental to Heracles's feats."</p><p>"I know," Damian said. "He was the one who burnt the Hydra's necks when Hercules dismembered them. He was also one of the Argonauts."</p><p>"So…aren't you excited to visit his shrine?"</p><p>"I guess,"</p><p>"You are, and that's final." She said, laughing slightly at his exasperation. "Not used to being bossed around, huh? Well, get used to it."</p><p>"Oh, I'm used to it," he said, pulling her close and spinning her into his arms. "Need I remind you that I grew up with both you and Annabeth. Let's get this over with. I want you back in my arms as we get a good night's rest."</p><p>They arrived at the shrine moments later. A short hike, all things considered. It was a small, unassuming stone structure, surrounded by rose bushes. Upon its face was painted a mural of Iolaus's adventures. Before the stone slab was an elaborately carved fountain filled with red petals.</p><p>Chloe knelt first, her lingering, outstretched fingertips beckoning him to join her. With fingers intertwined, they uttered the ancient vows they had learnt from Larissa. Shortly after, Damian pulled Chloe in for a deep kiss. While doing so, he took the opportunity to gently perch a rose in her hair. This time it was his fingers that lingered against his skin. When he pulled away, he was once again hypnotized by her beauty. How was it that she'd managed to surprise him time and time again? It was as if she grew more beautiful with every stuttering heartbeat.</p><p>"The rose is said to be the queen of flowers." said Damian as he kissed her again. "That's why I call you my rose."</p><p>"And here I thought you had improved your poetry." Chloe laughed against his lips.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>I know that this was an uneventful chapter, but hopefully yall enjoyed the banter and romance I snuck in. </strong>
  <strong>The next time we return to Damian and Chloe, all hell is going to break loose. I promise.</strong>
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  <strong>Please leave a review if you enjoyed the chapter.</strong>
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  <strong>I'd really appreciate it.</strong>
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